


My Sweetest Friend

by NewHampshireGirl



Series: Unconditionally [6]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Romance, Sexual Content, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7772632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewHampshireGirl/pseuds/NewHampshireGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mysterious deaths of a team of NCIS agents has team Gibbs scrambling for answers, meanwhile Tony must deal with his father as the wedding approaches, and McGee is finally ready to pop the big question. Post "Comes Falling Down"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September 1980

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the sixth story in the series. Enjoy!

**September 1980**

It was raining the night his mother died. Large, driving drops pelted the windows of the car as their driver brought them to the hospital in New York City. Anthony knew very little about why his mother was in the hospital. She had gone out two nights before and never returned. He had heard something about wrapping her car around a tree because she had been hitting the bottle too hard at Ms. Turners. None of that jargon made sense to eight-year-old Anthony.

Years later he would understand—he would understand that his father and mother got into some kind of argument and that his mother had escaped to her best friend's house, where apparently she had too much too drink, and then attempted to drive home. But the roads had been slick with the rain and she had hydroplaned and lost control of her car, careening into a very old, very large oak tree. It was amazing she had survived the crash at all.

Anthony wasn't sure how he was supposed to be feeling at this moment. His father frowned at any sign of emotions but the young boy was scared.  _DiNozzo's don't get scared,_ Senior would lecture him,  _and they do not cry. So man up—no son of mine is going to be weak._  His mother, though, was his entire world. Sure, she wasn't perfect but there was no doubt she loved him. Anthony often questioned if his father loved him. Senior at times certainly didn't treat him like he did. His father would take him on some nice trips—just that summer they had taken a great fishing trip—but there was a certain distance that the elder DiNozzo kept with his son.

"Junior," his father said, sternly when they arrived at the hospital. "Straighten your shoulders when you walk."

"Yes, sir," Anthony recited, automatically, and then did as he was told.

His mother's room was on what would be the sunny side of the hospital but the rain cast the room in a pale, dull light. Her once long, shiny hair wrapped underneath gauze and her eyes, a beautiful shade of green were hidden behind dark, bruised lids. She already looked dead and he only knew she wasn't because of the rise and fall of her chest and the steady beep of monitors.

In his hand he clutched tightly to a videotape. His father had told him it was pointless to bring a movie—his mother was incapable of watching it, but Anthony thought that if she heard a favorite movie of hers, then perhaps she would wake up. So, he put his movie in, sat on the hospital bed and held her hand. And it was his hand she was holding when she died, when the monitors stopped beeping and went into one, long drone. Anthony looked at the dull fingers between his—the diamond ring shining so brightly in the lights—and he thought, no one was ever going to love or understand him quite like her.


	2. Demons

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stepped carefully around the muddy crime scene, not too enthused that he had been pulled from his warm bed at three o'clock in the morning. It had rained, heavily, the night before, and the car, which had hugged a large Sycamore tree, was covered in thick, brown clay.

This was not what he wanted to be doing four weeks before his wedding, shuffling around a crime scene with  _four_ dead NCIS agents in the car. For all intents and purposes it appeared that the agent driving had lost control and all four agents had died upon impact with the large trunk of the tree. Of course, Ducky would make the final decision on how they had died, but Tony had some experience in what wrapping your car around a solid piece of wood that had been standing for hundreds of years would do to you.

"Boss," McGee called, sounding exhausted. "Finger print matches on all four passengers. It's Agent Winters' team."

"Any signs that the car was tampered with?" Gibbs asked, appearing through the thick morning haze.

"None," the junior agent replied with a sad shake of his head. "Just looks like they went off the road."

Tony stopped his photographing and looked at the twisted, heap of metal—the cold, damaged bodies inside. He knew Clay Winters, knew that the man was the exact opposite of Gibbs when it came to driving. It was hard to believe that this was simply an accident. Judging from the look on the team leader's face he was thinking the same thing. "Tire tracks indicate they took the corner sharply and lost control," the senior field agent whispered. "It was raining, road could have been slick—they hydroplaned into the tree."

Gibbs sighed, heavily and frowned. He looked up into the haze as the firemen began to get ready to tear the metal away from the car so they could get the bodies out. His team had gathered all the evidence that they could. What was left of the car would be brought to Abby for further analysis, but it was beginning to look like that perhaps, Tony was right. Perhaps this had been a terrible accident. But still…something tugged at him. "Four dead agents, DiNozzo," he said, low and angrily, "no accident in that."

"Not everything is a conspiracy, boss," Tony snapped, and then immediately regretted his harsh tone.

"You want to accept their deaths at face value? Come on, DiNozzo, I trained you better than that," Gibbs snapped back, squaring his shoulders slightly.

Tony looked down at the wreck once again. When his mother had died, eight-year-old Anthony had thought up of every possible situation as to why it had happened. He just couldn't believe that his mother would do something that dumb and get herself killed. But the harsh reality he came to realize, as he grew older was that she had done something dumb and it cost her. He wasn't sure if Clay Winters had done something as equally dumb…but he wasn't ready to omit human error just yet. "People make mistakes, Gibbs, that's why they're called accidents. We may not like it…because we want answers…but sometimes these things happen."

For a second, Gibbs didn't say a word, just stared at his senior field agent with a bit of a glare in his eye. What had happened to the sharp investigator that always dug deeper? It was like Tony just wanted to close this case and move on and this wasn't like him at all. Something beyond dealing with the deaths of these agents was troubling him. "Your wedding plans aren't distracting you, are they?"

"What?" Tony asked, shocked. "No! Leah pretty much has everything under control."

"Then for God sakes, DiNozzo, snap out of this!" Gibbs nearly shouted. He noticed that Ducky and Palmer, nearby overseeing the transfer of the bodies glanced up.

Tony ran his tongue over his lips and let his face become stone. "Sorry…I had a moment of weakness…of  _feeling_  something. Guess I can't be cold like you all the time. If you want to write me up for that…go ahead. I'll be in the truck."

Gibbs watched as he stalked off, ripping his ball cap off as he went and running a hand through his hair. What in God's name had just happened? Tony, rarely, if ever, raised his voice at  _anyone_ let alone the team leader. He noticed the bewildered look on both Ducky and Jimmy's faces and realized he wasn't the only one confused by the SFA's outburst. Alright, so maybe he had been a bit harsh accusing Tony of being distracted by the wedding—and perhaps he shouldn't have told him to  _snap out of this._ However, Tony's normal response to his gruffness was a deflection with humor or a simple, "yes boss."  _Something_ was wrong and if they were going to wrap this case up quickly, Gibbs was going to have to get to the heart of the matter.

* * *

He found a nice, quiet, and relatively hidden space to clear his head. Tony escaped to the roof of NCIS headquarters, and sat, with his knees to his chest, just taking slow, steady breaths. He would have to apologize later to Gibbs for his outburst. He would have to do a better job of hiding his demons and clear his head to solve this case. The team needed him at his best not moping about something that happened well over thirty years ago.

But that was easier said than done. He had never seen his mother's car that night, however years later, when he'd been a teenager and home on a break, he had gone down to the library and read all the newspapers articles. Elizabeth never had a chance, nothing the paramedics or the doctors did was going to save her. Basically she had been kept alive long enough so she could "say good-bye". Tony let out a harsh rush of air and closed his eyes tightly. He had done such a good job over the years concealing pretty much everything about his childhood. There had been the occasional slips of course. Right now, though, he was dangerously teetering over the edge and he needed to reign himself in. No one needed to know about his inner demons.

For a while the peace of the rooftop seemed to be working, as he sat there letting the breeze tickle his face, but then his cell rang. Tony knew that it was one of three people looking for him—Gibbs, Leah, or his father. And unfortunately for him it was his dad.

"Dad…thought you and Linda were enjoying vacationing in Switzerland?" Tony asked, when he answered.

" _We did. Beautiful this time of year—you really should go next year with us, Junior,"_ his father beamed, unaware of his son's inner turmoil. " _Linda wanted me to invite you and Leah up for the weekend."_

Tony sighed and kicked an imaginary stone in front of him. "Dad…I'm kind of in the middle of an important case."

Senior wouldn't take that as an answer of course. " _Junior…I'm sure NCIS can run without you for a couple of days."_

"Dad…that's not really the point…"

" _Why are you being so stubborn, Junior! You kids should have a proper party to announce your engagement!"_

And there it was, the whole reason that his father had called. It wasn't because he had actually  _wanted_ to see Tony—it was because Linda was having some kind of party for the younger couple. Tony felt like screaming, especially after the morning he was already having with the car wreck. "Four weeks before the wedding?" he snapped.

Senior chuckled. " _Well…we would have done it sooner if Leah hadn't taken off for the summer."_

Tony knew he wasn't getting off this phone call without agreeing to go up to the Hamptons that weekend. He just wanted to run...from everything. From the case...from his father-from his wedding.  _Where did that come from?_ Tony thought, with a sick twist of his stomach. He loved Leah. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Why the sudden urge to run from that?

" _Junior? Are you there?"_

"Oh...yeah...sorry. I'll...I'll talk to Leah."

He could almost see his father smiling in triumph. " _Great! We'll see you Friday!"_

Tony gave him a numb response and hung the phone up. Closing his eyes tightly he shoved it back into his pocket. He should probably get back to work. He was already in hot water thanks to his outburst at Gibbs earlier that morning. He didn't need to be in anymore. Slowly he opened his eyes and pushed himself up, making his way off of the roof and back into the building. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lightning but once it did, he decided to stop to see Ducky before returning to the bullpen. He could gauge Gibbs' annoyance with him by going to talk to Ducky first.

Ducky was in the midst of examining the four bodies and had a pretty grim expression on his face. Tony recalled hearing McGee remark that the elderly doctor had frequent lunches with Clay Winters. "My dear friend," the medical examiner said, softly, "I'm terribly sorry that this happened to you."

"So...it was an accident then," Tony stated, alerting Ducky to his presence.

"I am afraid so, Anthony," Ducky replied looking up at the younger man. "Has anyone told his family yet?"

Tony shook his head. "No...Director Vance was supposed to make the phone call."

Ducky frowned. "He was very excited about his daughter going to Georgetown this fall. Do you know that Agent Winters has been with his wife since high school?"

"No. I...I didn't know him that well," Tony admitted.  _And who's fault is that really? You keep everyone at arm's length._

"Love like that, Anthony, does not come along very often," Ducky told him with a sad smile.

Tony did not need to be told that more than once. He knew. He had been waiting his whole life for Leah to come along. Just last year he had resigned to the fact that he was never going to find that kind of love and be alone for the rest of his life. He had even convinced himself that being alone wasn't such a terrible thing. He'd joined a support group to get what he could for social interaction and contact. It had never really been enough and meeting Leah in that coffee shop that day had been a true life saver. "Well," he said, gently, "the vows do say  _until death do us part._ "

Ducky studied him for a moment and could see some of the anxiety in his green eyes. "Are you getting nervous about your upcoming nuptials, Anthony?"

"Nervous? No. Why do you ask?"

"You seem...tense."

"Just got off the phone with my father."

"Ah, well, that explains it then."

Tony chuckled, softly. Yes, it explained a lot actually. He could see that Ducky, however, was not going to buy that as a reason for his outburst at Gibbs that morning, and the SFA chose that moment to fake a text message from his soon-to-be wife, and dart from the room. Inside the elevator once more he let out a frustrated sigh. These people were really getting to know him too well. And it amazed him that he hadn't split years ago when it first became clear that they were getting to know him too well. Again that nervous, anxious, wanting to run and hide from  _everything_ crept into his senses and he did  _everything_ he could to shake it off. And failed.

 


	3. Coffee Cups and Wedding Dresses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait! Enjoy!

Tim noticed the depressed like state that Tony was in the moment he reappeared from…wherever he had disappeared to in the first place. While he would be the first to admit that investigating and closing out a case that involved an entire team of agents losing their lives, nothing had seemed to be bothering his partner these days. Tony had been walking around on cloud nine since Leah had returned home—no matter what dreadful case they were working. So, his sudden depression was slightly terrifying. Was the obvious answer to why this one was bothering him really just that four NCIS agents were dead?

"Gibbs went to get more coffee," the younger agent announced when Tony sat down at his desk with nothing more than a grunt. "Where…where'd you go?"

"Went to chat with Ducky," Tony replied, softly, getting to work. "He's not done his report yet. Still thinks that the agents died on impact."

Tim's brow furrowed. Something was definitely bugging Tony. There was a certain edge to his voice. "If that's what Ducky thinks…then that's probably what happened. Sad, really, when you think about it."

Tony didn't comment.  _It's just so sad, isn't it? Poor Lizzie._ He could clearly hear that mourner's voice in his head, the one of many at his mother's funeral. Everything was always  _poor Lizzie,_ like Tony or his father did not exist and were in pain because of her death. His father never recovered from Elizabeth's passing. Tried to replace her with wife after wife—much like Gibbs after Shannon. Lord, he did not want to see his father this weekend, not after processing that horrific crash scene which was so similar to his mother's.

"Got anything for me," Gibbs demanded when he reappeared in the bullpen, coffee in hand. "I was gone almost an hour."

"Abby's looking over the car," McGee reported. "Still waiting."

"Ducky's working on the autopsy reports," Bishop said, softly. "Still waiting."

Gibbs turned towards Tony, expecting him to pull something out of his hat like usual, but the SFA shrugged his shoulders. "I've got nothing, boss."

Tim watched the clouded look that passed over the team leader's face. He'd heard about Tony's outburst at the crash scene from Palmer and he had expected Gibbs to have dealt with it by now…but apparently the former marine was just as troubled by the state of depression that their SFA was in as Tim was. "Could be several hours before we have anything, really," he spouted, turning Gibbs attention to him.  _Ah…there we go…the Gibbs stare._ Somehow that made everything align in the world. "But…we'll work harder to get it done faster."

"Keep me updated," Gibbs said, softly. "I need to go pay a visit to someone."

"Sure thing, boss," Tim replied when he noticed that Tony wasn't going to answer. Bishop looked at him, cautiously. Tim shook his head. It was better to let Tony sort things out for a bit before confronting him. If the SFA didn't snap out of this by tomorrow than Tim would talk to him, try to get him to open up a bit…after all his friend had been doing the same for him for years. It was time that Tim returned the favor.

* * *

Gibbs waited patiently by a coffee stand downtown, perched on a weathered wooden park bench. He had already finished his first cup and was on a refill when his  _guest_ arrived.

"How come I only hear from you when you need something from the NSA, Gibbs?" a voice asked, in a somewhat pleasant tone.

"I call…" Gibbs replied, grinning up at the flustered NSA agent. "It's nice to see you too, Quentin."

Meredith Quentin frowned and sat down with Gibbs. He handed her a coffee. She took it and smiled at him. "We really need to stop meeting like this, Gibbs. The last time we did you took Ellie Bishop from us."

Gibbs chuckled. "She was ready for the change. I just…pushed her in the right direction that's all."

"Uh-huh," Quentin said, sipping her coffee. "What can I do for you this time?"

"I need records unsealed," Gibbs said honestly. "But I need someone who has NSA or CIA clearance to do so."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Four NCIS agents were killed in a car wreck early this morning."

Quentin looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry to hear that, Gibbs. What does this case have to do with the NSA?"

Gibbs took a deep breath. "Need you to look into the death of Elizabeth DiNozzo."

"DiNozzo? Isn't that your…"

"Yeah…my second…"

"What does  _this_ have to do with your case?"

"Nothing…I just need to know why this case has effected him."

Quentin shook her head. "Gibbs. Not everyone hides like you do. It's entirely possible that your agent is just upset about the death of four co-workers. But…since we're on the subject…why do you think Elizabeth DiNozzo's death and this case are similar?"

Gibbs sighed, chugged the rest of his coffee. "Because. When I tried to look into it on my own a long time ago I was steamrolled. All I know is that she died in September of 1980. Given that she came from a wealthy family in England and married into another wealthy family here in America, I am assuming that they bought off the right people to cover it up. I always meant to go back and dig deeper but…well…things always seemed to get in the way. Now…now I'm regretting it."

"I'll see what I can do," Quentin said, tucking a piece of her long black hair behind her ear, "but I make no promises, Gibbs."

"Don't worry," He said with a smile, "I'm not looking for any. Just answers."

"Before I do this…Gibbs…promise  _me_ one thing."

"What's that Meredith?"

She grinned, cheerily, "That we meet more and less about work."

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head as she walked away, "Yeah," he whispered, "yeah let's do that."

* * *

Leah Dawson clenched her fists at her sides. It was serving two purposes at the moment—one being to keep her from striking at her nagging mother, and the other calming her nerves about her final wedding dress fitting. At least the shop girl was nice and welcoming, ushering her into a private dressing room and promising to bring her dress back in a snap.

Her mother and two sisters were relegated to sitting outside the dressing room, leaving Leah alone in her thoughts. This whole wedding thing was really starting to get real. It had always been real, but when she had been in Egypt over the summer it had felt so far away. Now, they had just a month to go and she felt like there was so much more to plan. Last night she had forced Tony to stay up for hours just picking out flowers. He had been pretty frustrated with her but had never raised his voice, telling her that whatever she wanted he'd be okay with. And she knew it was probably true—she just wanted him to be a part of this as much as she was.

"Ms. Dawson, here we go," the girl said, coming back in carrying a large, black garment bag. She hung it up and unzipped it, releasing the gown so Leah could get a good look at the flowing fabric. "What do you think?"

"It looks…it looks just the way I thought it was going too," Leah said with a smile, forgetting about all the plans she still had to do.

Everything seemed to just slip away as she was helped into the gown. It fit perfectly—it hugged her curves in all the right places, and fluttered out in all the right places. Nothing else seemed to matter now that her dress was perfect. She closed her eyes when she heard her mother bickering with Norah, who was not a traditional person in any sense of the word and hated all this wedding stuff. Taking a deep breath she pulled the curtain back and stepped out.

Judging by the squeal that Lauren let out, Leah could assume that the dress was a hit. She opened her eyes and smiled. "It's perfect!" Lauren exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing a hold of her hands. "You look amazing!"

"Do you think Tony will like it?"

"DiNozzo isn't going to care what you look like."

Leah, along with her two sisters and mother, were startled to see Gibbs standing in the shop. He had his trademark cup of coffee in his hand and he was smiling at her. She felt her heart sink into her stomach. Something was up. Gibbs wouldn't seek her out otherwise. And she knew that he'd sought her out because his favorite coffee stand was half way across town from the dress shop. "Gibbs is everything alright?"

Gibbs looked at her mother and sisters. "Can we talk in private for a moment?" He gestured towards a small alcove and moved towards the spot. Leah followed suit, her gown fabric swishing as she went. He watched as she approached.  _Tony is definitely going to like it,_ he thought with a whimsical smile.

"You're scaring me here, Gibbs. Is everything alright with Tony?" Leah asked, anxiously.

"Everything is fine. He's back at NCIS…he doesn't know I'm here," Gibbs pointed out to her. "Were you with him when he got the call this morning?"

"Yes. We had just gone to bed," Leah replied. "Why?"

Gibbs took a deep breath. "He ever mention anything about a car accident in his past? Someone that he knew well perhaps dying in one? He seems to have been bothered by this case and I'd like to know why."

Leah paused, ever so slightly, and bit down on her lower lip—something that Gibbs recalled Tony saying she did when she was nervous. She shook her head. "The only one he talked to me about was the one that he was in with Ziva, last year. And even then he didn't talk that much about it."

Was that really it? Was this accident just bringing back all the bad memories from last year and dragging Tony down? Gibbs sighed and realized that he was no where closer to figuring this all out than when he had left NCIS. Hopefully Meredith would come up with something.

_"_ Gibbs…you can't…you can't push him to talk about it, whatever  _it_ is that's bothering him," Leah chided him, gently. "He'll just…he'll just put his walls up even higher if you do."

"I need him, depend on him to get the job done."

"And it will get done…he just needs  _his_ space."

Gibbs knew she was right and he also knew that Tony was incredibly lucky to have found this woman. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Tony might not care what you look like on your wedding day, but I can promise you—his eyes are never going to leave you."

 


	4. Going Mad

"Look what my mom gave me today!" Leah said, excitedly when he made it home that night. She pulled on his hand, barely giving him time to put his bag down, and dragged him into the bedroom. On the bed was a rather old looking box and she immediately opened it up, gently lifting out a pile of lace. She unfolded it and clipped it in her hair and Tony realized that it was a veil. "Isn't it beautiful? It was my grandmother's."

"Am I…am I allowed to see that?" Tony asked, honestly, watching as she twirled around a bit so the long veil would move with her. She looked so happy and his heart thundered in his chest as his fears and desires to run rushed at him.  _You love her. It's this case. You'll feel better in the morning,_ he told himself.

Leah smiled at him and laughed at his question. "Yes! You can see the veil! It's the dress you can't see, silly!" She pulled the veil over her face and grabbed his hands, raising her chin. "Shall we practice?"

Tony tried to smile for her, tried to find that same joy but failed. Gently he pulled the veil back and let his eyes roam over her face. She was glowing and she was only wearing a veil. Her smile faded when he took the veil off and gently laid it back on the bed. Slowly he pulled her towards him, hugging her tightly and kissing her temple. "I love you," he whispered, fighting his tears. "I love you, Leah."

"I love you too," she said, letting him hold onto her for dear life. "Is everything alright?"

"No," he said to her honestly, "just…rough day. Four dead agents…and it was a tragic accident. Plain and simple."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"Just…just this."

Leah closed her eyes and nestled into his embrace. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, his breathing, and his warmth spread through her. She hooked her arms around his waist and sighed. She could understand why Gibbs had sought her out, why he had been concerned. There was a note of defeat in Tony's voice, like he just wanted to give up. It frightened her.

Tony pulled away suddenly, wiping at his eyes. "I'm going to take a shower," he told her, not being able to look at her. Inside the safety of the bathroom, he locked the door and stared at himself in the mirror. There were signs of dark circles beginning to form underneath his eyes. Not even in the Hamptons yet to face his father and Linda and already he was showing the signs of wear and tear. Turning the faucet on, he cupped his hands underneath the cold water and splashed it on his face.  _Better. She deserves better,_ a nagging voice rang in the back of his head.  _She's beautiful and perfect and she…she doesn't deserve to get hurt._

Frustrated, Tony shut the water off and striped down. Over the summer he had released his frustrations and anxiety over Leah being so far away by working out and he'd slimmed down to a point McGee had joked he wanted to be skinny to fit into his wedding dress. Tony had laughed back then, now he wasn't laughing. It really wasn't so funny anymore. Getting into the shower he stood underneath the warm stream, resting his hands against the tile. He was that scared, lost little boy again, watching as a nurse covered his mother with a white sheet and said a prayer. Over thirty years later and he still couldn't talk about her, still couldn't think about her in that state.  _And what if you lose Leah like that? Isn't that what you've been terrified of all day? Leah, lying there like your mother, dying?_

He startled and shivered in the heat of the shower.  _If you run…you won't have to worry about that._

"No," he whispered, "I'm not…I'm not running."  _She deserves better…she doesn't deserve to get hurt._ Sighing, he just wished he knew  _how_ to keep her from getting hurt. Because that was what he did. He disappointed and hurt the people around him. It was only a matter of time before Leah became the next victim of that.

Finishing up his shower, he got dressed in a tee-shirt and sweatpants and went to the dining room to find that Leah had ordered pizza for dinner. She didn't ask him anymore questions about the case, instead they talked about her afternoon with her mother and sisters-skipping talking about her wedding dress of course.

Tony was feeling slightly better until she said, "Your stepmom called. She wanted to know if we were free this weekend."

"Yeah," he said with a wince, "my dad called me."

"I told her we would go. We could both use the weekend away."

"Wonderful."

Leah frowned at him. "I know you and your dad...you don't always get along but...well...Linda really wants to do this. It would be rude of us not to show up. And since they are the ones letting us use  _their_ home for our wedding..."

Tony forced a smile. "I know, sweetheart...I told him we'd be there."

"Oh, well, I guess I can start packing tonight," she said getting up, "that is if you clean up dinner?"

"Yes," he said, softly, "I'll clean up."

Leah leaned down to kiss his cheek and was gone in a flash to the bedroom. Tony quietly cleaned up, still trying to get used to the tightness of her small, quaint kitchen. It was very different from his own apartment, but since she had a spare bedroom, a spare bath, and her living room was bigger, it was agreed that they should live at her place.

Tony liked her place. It was warm and inviting, much like she was, and when he'd moved in here over the summer, it had helped him through their separation. Plus, the goldfish seemed to like their bigger tank that Leah had gotten for them.

He turned in early that night. Exhausted from the late night flower planning and the early morning crime scene. Leah had passed out just before he did and he sighed, "It's the case," he said, fighting with his emotions, "It's this wretched case, and I'll feel better in the morning."

* * *

"Tony!" Leah's voice frantically pulled him from his slumber. Her hands were squarely on his shoulders and she was shaking him. "Tony, wake up!"

"W-what's wrong?" Tony sputtered, instinctively reaching for his weapon on the nightstand as his eyes flew open.

Leah was sitting on her knees next to him. She had turned her light on and was looking at him with a mixture of concern and fear. "You…you were having a bad dream. Actually…I'd say it was more of a nightmare." Gently she reached out and ran her fingers through his damp hair. "I…it was hard to wake you. Do you…do you remember anything?"

Tony sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling how clammy they were. "No," he whispered, pulling them back and looking at her, sorrowfully. He reached up and captured a strand of her hair between his fingers and twirled it. "Must have been a pretty bad one."

"Well…it's…it's over now."

"Lee…I'm…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For scaring you."

Leah laid down and snuggled into his arms. She kissed his chest lightly and sighed. "It's okay."

Tony took a deep breath and reached over her, shutting her light off. He then tightened his hold on her, engulfing her into his arms protectively. The fact was he did remember what he'd been dreaming about—all the women in his life that he'd lost and failed. Accusing him, belittling him, telling him that it was  _his_ fault. But the worst…the worst had been Leah…eyes cold and hard, asking him when he was going to fail her. That was when she had pulled him from the dream. How could he tell her that his nightmare had been about her?

He watched as her eyes slipped shut and she fell back into a peaceful slumber. He envied her in a way, that she wasn't plagued by nightmares and demons. That she could dream wonderful things and not have to worry about the dark places her mind was going to take her when she closed her eyes.

In the moonlight he could see the suitcase she had taken out to pack for their weekend in the Hamptons. She had been elated to go visit his father and stepmother. It meant they could get away from the city for a weekend, away from the stress that planning their wedding was bringing them. Tony had masked his true emotions, that he really didn't want to make this trip, that he was terrified of going when he was in such a state thanks to the car wreck the other day. But then…she'd think he was weak and…well…what woman wanted to marry a weak man?  _DiNozzo men are not weak, Junior,_ his father's scolding's ringed in his ears,  _weak men are cowards. I refuse to raise a coward!_

"Leah," he whispered, knowing that she was sound asleep. "I don't know what to do," he said, on the verge of tears. "I love you. I want to marry you. But you…you're terrific and you deserve someone…someone who isn't going to hurt you. I'm…I know it will hurt you if I leave but…if I stay I'll hurt you even more."

She stirred slightly in her sleep, burrowing deeper into his embrace. Tony finally let a lone tear leak out of his eye. He held onto her for dear life, burying his face against her hair, letting her scent wash over him, how much he loved that scent of honey and lilies. He didn't want to be parted from her but at the same time he was horrified that he would never live up to her expectations of a happy ending, of a good husband—that just like all the other women in his life he was never going to be enough to keep them around.

He wasn't enough to keep his mother from drinking that night and driving home, he wasn't enough for Wendy to want to stick around—he'd laid his heart out for Ziva and that  _still_ wasn't enough to get her to come back to the States with him. How long before Leah decided to head for greener pastures?

_Snap out of it, DiNozzo!_ Gibbs' voice shouted in his brain.

Tony was going mad, slowly, he was sure of it.  _The case…it has to be the case,_ he told himself, as he finally let his exhaustion win out.  _Yeah,_ he mused falling into a thankfully dreamless slumber,  _yeah, I'll feel better once this case is behind us._

* * *

Delilah Fielding noticed the somber mood that Tim was in that morning while she served them breakfast. "Is everything alright?"

Tim frowned and took a sip of his coffee. "I'm worried about Tony. Ever since we got the call that Agent Winters' team died in that accident he's been…he's been distance. I hope it's just that we lost four co-workers but I don't know…he did a decent job of avoiding Gibbs and I yesterday and I never did get to talk to him."

"He's under a bit of pressure right now, Tim," Delilah reminded him with a smile. "The big day is only four weeks away."

"Yeah…I know," Tim mumbled, reminding himself that he had to go in to get fitted for his tux. "Do you really think that's it? Stress about the wedding? And the deaths of those agents?"

Delilah reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I know how hard it is for you to open up, Tim, but maybe you need to talk to him. He told you…back when I was hurt…that he was always there for you...to listen…I think he would appreciate the gesture of you returning the favor."

Tim sighed and finished his breakfast. She didn't know how terribly complex Tony could be. He could walk into NCIS today and find that the SFA was back to his normal self. Or he could discover that Tony was just as melancholy as before. Either way both situations made Tim anxious. One didn't just recover from that kind of depression over night and it also wasn't good for one to be in that state of mind. Clearing his plate he went to the dishwasher and put his dishes inside. He turned and kissed his girlfriend. "Maybe we should go out to dinner with Tony and Leah before the wedding?"

"I bet both of them could use the stress relief," Delilah said smiling. "I'm not working today because I'm meeting with the physical therapist but I can give Leah a ring."

"Sounds great," Tim said, smiling. "How about the  _Roof Top Grill_ on Tuesday at eight?"

Delilah looked at him suspiciously but nodded. "Wow…are you sure you haven't already planned this…"

Tim shook his head, nervously and was on his way. Closing the door behind him tightly, he let out a short breath.  _That was too close_ , he thought. Straightening his blazer, he took sure strides down to his car. One crisis adverted for the day. Hopefully he could dodge the others that would no doubt come up as well.

 


	5. Reasons

"You're not going to like what I found," Abby said, eyeing the Caf Pow Gibbs had brought her. "Agent Winters' toxicology screen came back."

"Alcohol?" Gibbs guessed, standing there with the Caf Pow in one hand, his coffee in the other.

Abby shook her head, her pigtails swinging from side to side. "No. Valium…and judging from the results I'd say a _very_ high dosage."

Gibbs sighed. Just when he was beginning to subscribe to DiNozzo's theory that this really was an accident. "We didn't find any prescription bottles in the car," he stated. And they hadn't checked Winters' home because, well, they were operating on the belief that this was an accident. He handed Abby her Caf Pow and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Abs."

"Wish I had better news to tell you, Gibbs," Abby mumbled with a shake of her head. "It's just so…terribly sad. Even without the knowledge that Agent Winters' was under the influence of a high dose of Valium. And we should not be thinking negative thoughts right now! Not with Tony's wedding a month away!"

"Abs, this case isn't going to affect the wedding," Gibbs said with a smile.

She bit down on her lower lip. "Gibbs…have you not noticed the black cloud that has been following Tony around for the last two days?"

He had noticed and he was just as worried as she was, but he highly doubted that their _negative_ thoughts about this case were going to destroy Tony and Leah's relationship. "Listen…Abs, everything is going to be fine."

"You promise, Gibbs? Because he's finally happy…really and truly happy and I just…I don't want my Tony hurt."

"Abs. Tony is not in a bad mood because of the wedding, okay?"

Abby reached for Bert and gave the stuffed Hippo a hefty squeeze. "I just a have really hinky feeling, Gibbs."

Gibbs kissed her cheek one more time before leaving. He had a real _hinky_ feeling too.

* * *

Tony opened his top drawer and shuffled around in it looking for the usually untouched bottle of Advil. He had to rummage through a stack of junk to find it. _Really need to clean this drawer out,_ he thought as his fingers slid across something cold and metallic. He froze knowing exactly what he'd found—Ziva's necklace. Yanking his hand back he slammed the drawer shut, startling both McGee and Bishop. "Sorry," he muttered, getting back to work.

Why had she given him that necklace anyway? Was it so he had some kind of reminder of his screw-up? What he couldn't have? _Snap out of it, Anthony!_ He mentally shouted at himself. It wasn't his fault that she had left. It had been her decision. He hated how many times in a day he had to tell himself that after she had left and his stomach twisted as he began to repeat that process all over again. He hadn't done so since Leah had entered his life.

His head throbbed and he realized he hadn't gotten the Advil out of the drawer. Closing his eyes tightly he opened the drawer back up and found his bottle of pills. Popping four into his mouth he chugged them down with the rest of his morning latte.

"Agent Winters' had Valium in his system," Gibbs announced striding into the cluster of desks. "High dosage."

_Valium._ Tony thought with a shudder. He'd seen what high dosages of Valium could do to people. Perhaps if his mother had taken a Valium that night she wouldn't have gone to Linda's and driven home drunk as a skunk.

"DiNozzo."

"Boss?"

"I said take McGee and go talk to Mrs. Winters."

Tony slowly stood, clipped his badge to his belt and retrieved his weapon. He noticed that Gibbs was eyeing him, cautiously, and it was then that he realized the lead agent had not chewed him for his outburst yesterday at the crime scene. He turned to go, unnerved by his boss staring at him. "Oh…" he said, suddenly and turned towards Gibbs, "I ah…I left a leave request form on your desk…"

Gibbs brow furrowed. "I already approved the time off for the wedding and honeymoon."

"Um…well…you see my dad called, yesterday…and he…he ah wants Leah and I…to come up this weekend."

"Then you should go."

Tony winced and nodded his head. "Thanks, boss," he said, in barely a whisper, before jogging to catch up to McGee in the elevator. He had been half-hoping that Gibbs would reject his request, but having just lost his own father, it seemed that Gibbs wanted Tony to repair whatever kind of relationship he had with Senior. _It's only for three days…you can make it._

McGee was talking to him. Tony could hear words coming out of his mouth but he wasn't focused enough to hear what was being said. "I'm sorry…did you say something?"

"I was wondering if Mrs. Winters knew that her husband was taking Valium," McGee replied, his green eyes filled with concern for his friend. "You okay, Tony?"

"Headache," Tony answered, honestly. "And in my experience—no, the spouse never knows when the other is taking something like Valium."

McGee wasn't going to begin to ponder what the SFA meant by _that_. Tony's past had always been a mystery to him, even the things that Tony offered up left McGee scratching his head at times. "Well, Ellie was going to check his medical records. I would think that something like this would have been on NCIS' files."

Tony frowned as the pair walked towards their car. "Maybe Winters was afraid that if NCIS knew he was on Valium he was going to lose his job."

"Do you think…is there a possibility that he was _given_ the Valium?"

"Aw, now you sound like Gibbs and his conspiracy theories."

"Well…"

"Sure…" Tony snapped, unlocking the Charger, "there's _always_ a possibility."

McGee took a deep breath as they got into the car. "What are we going to tell Mrs. Winters?"

Tony started the Charger up. He didn't know what to tell her. They weren't sure if Winters was using the Valium knowingly or had been slipped some, and what woman wanted to listen to two NCIS agents accuse her husband of being a drug addict that had gotten three other people killed. Or worse yet, be told that her husband was murdered. Some days this job really, really sucked.

* * *

"Agent DiNozzo, you didn't have to come all the way out here to speak to me," Carla Winters said, handing Tony a fresh cup of coffee. "I gladly would have come into NCIS."

"We appreciate that ma'am," Tony replied, taking the coffee mug from her, "but we understand that this is a difficult time for you."

Carla frowned. She was wearing sweats, her hair which was pulled back still showed signs of not having been washed in the last forty-eight hours. The picture _perfect_ grieving widow. "Clay…loved his team, Agent DiNozzo. They were good people. I feel…terrible for their families. Clay was always such a good, careful driver."

Tony's eyes softened. "Mrs. Winters, was your husband…depressed? Suffer from anxiety?"

"What? No…why do you ask?"

"We found a high dosage of Valium in his system. It could have contributed to the crash."

Carla's hand shook and she put her coffee mug down onto the coffee table. "Valium?" she repeated, confused. "Clay wasn't on any medication, Agent DiNozzo. I don't know why your tests would have found that in his system."

Tony rubbed a hand across his face. _Neither do we,_ he thought, remorsefully. He wanted to give her something more than just _we don't understand it either._ He was at a loss for words, which rarely happened to him. Thankfully his partner was a bit more on top of things.

"Can you think of anyone that would want to hurt your husband?" McGee asked, softly.

"Agent McGee," Carla started, firmly, "you know very well the dangers that come with the job. But Clay…he never brought work home…never talked about it. Now I wish…I wish he had so I could help you more."

Tony started to reach for her hand, to give it a reassuring squeeze, when Leah's face flashed to the forefront. He saw her sitting in the same position as Carla, cheeks stained with her tears, looking as torn up as they come. _If you stay you'll hurt her more than if you leave,_ that voice nagged at him. He apologized to Carla, gave her his condolences and then stood, straightening his suit coat.

McGee gave Carla his business card and followed Tony back out to the Charger. It was unsettling to see Tony still in this depressed state. He was hoping to come into work that morning and find a chipper Tony, but if it was possible the SFA seemed to be even more down and on the edge than he'd been the day before. This really had nothing to do with wedding plans…no…this was something entirely different. "I, ah…I had Delilah call Leah today…to invite you guys to dinner Tuesday night."

"What's going on Tuesday?" Tony asked, absent-mindedly while he drove back towards the Navy Yard.

"I…well…I'm going to..."

"Propose?"

McGee to this day wondered how Tony knew exactly what he was talking about. "Um…yeah…I'm going to propose."

Tony looked at him, slightly befuddled. "And you want Leah and I there?"

"Actually I'm going to propose before dinner…but I'd like you and Leah to be there to celebrate with us," McGee said, looking at him earnestly.

"Sure," Tony said, gripping the steering wheel. "We'd love to be there." _Give me as many reasons, Tim, to stay. Because if you don't…I might be gone eventually._


	6. A Weekend in the Hamptons

Bishop was the one to deliver the devastating news. "Clay Winters was on Valium for Generalized anxiety disorder. His doctor warned him to be careful with the drug and to only take it on an as needed basis."

Tony felt the cadence in his head grow louder, highlighting the fact that the bullpen was silent after she spoke. "So," he finally said, breaking the tension. "We're back to where we started—this was an accident."

"We'll start fresh in the morning," Gibbs said, with a sad sigh. "Let's make sure we have all our ducks in a row so those other families have some kind of closure."

"Boss," McGee said, even as Tony and Bishop gathered their gear. "Mrs. Winters said that Clay loved his team—I don't think he would have driven if he took that much Valium."

Gibbs looked at the tired faces of his team—especially the forlorn look on his senior field agent. He stood by his choice to dismiss them for the night. This case was going to be waiting for them in the morning and with no sign of tampering on the car they were not looking at a criminal case. As the agents turned their backs and began to file out, Gibbs called after them, "DiNozzo."

Tony turned, shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, boss?"

"Can I have a word with you?"

 _Damnit. I knew I wasn't let off the hook for yesterday_. Tony slowly made his way back to the bullpen, muttering under his breath a "good night" to both McGee and Bishop. He dropped his bag down and crossed his arms over his chest. "If this is about yesterday—I'm sorry. I just…I can't always turn it off like you can."

Gibbs eyed him for a moment. "I know that, DiNozzo. This isn't about your outburst yesterday."

"It's not?"

"No. Everything ok?"

Tony winced. "I'm fine. Tired. And I have to be up for a five in the morning flight tomorrow. So if that's all…I'll just be on my way…"

Gibbs' brow furrowed as Tony scurried to escape once more. "Anthony." Using his full name had the effect that Gibbs was going for—Tony stopped in his tracks and looked sheepishly at his boss. In that instant Gibbs saw the vulnerable, eight year old boy—the one that had lost his mother and childhood much too soon. "Don't bottle it up inside. Don't be me. If you don't want to talk to me—talk to someone else—talk to Leah. You have a great girl there, DiNozzo. She'll listen."

"Boss…I said I was fine," Tony replied with a nervous laugh and not sounding very convincing. "Really! I am!"

He didn't want to let the senior field agent go just yet, but Gibbs knew that Tony wasn't going to open up to him. Not tonight at least. "Alright. Go on, get out of here. Good luck this weekend."

Tony nodded and sighed as he left, "Yeah. I'm gonna need it."

* * *

 

Pulling down the long, gated driveway towards Linda Turner's home could not bring back any more memories for Tony than he had already been faced with that very week. This place reminded him so much of his mother, of her final days and the ache that he'd carried around in his heart for years afterwards- an ache that he was still carrying around to this day.

It had been Linda that opened up her home after his mother's funeral, perhaps out of guilt because it was her home that Elizabeth had been driving home from when the accident occurred. His father had been too distraught to even think about catering a mercy meal. Tony had hid in Hamilton's study, away from the prying eyes and pity being cast upon him. He'd heard their whispers throughout the whole day. Poor boy, doesn't have a mother now. Lizzie would be devastated to see him this way. Can't imagine having to raise a child by myself. At the age of eight he had been forced to grow up because his father hadn't been fit to raise him on his own. If the situation had been reversed, if it had been his father that passed and not his mother, he wondered how much better his life would have been.

Tony doubted it would have been all that different. For while he loved his mother, dearly, she wasn't the most stable woman in the world.

He parked the brand new red Mustang that the rental company had given him underneath a large oak tree that was just starting to turn a lovely shade of orange, and shut the convertible down. "Are you ready for your weekend in the Hamptons, Ms. Dawson?"

Leah smiled, brightly next to him. In that moment he felt like he was in a classic movie. She looked like Audrey Hepburn or Bette Davis, or anyone from Hollywood's golden era, wearing a navy blue tee-shirt, white capris and boat shoes, her hair tied back into a wavy pony tail, protected from the wind of the ride by a pink floral scarf. Behind those vintage sunglasses he was sure her eyes were sparkling. "Yes," she said, sweetly. "You realize this is our first weekend away together?"

"Cairo doesn't count?" Tony asked as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"No, of course not. I was living there for the summer. You came to visit."

"Well, I'm glad we made that distinction."

Leah rolled her eyes playfully while Tony got out and went around to open her door. He insisted on doing it, every time they went somewhere, and now she didn't argue with him because chivalry was indeed not dead. She stepped out of the car and fixed her shirt and waited patiently while Tony got their baggage out of the trunk. With one arm slung around her waist and the other carrying their luggage, Tony lead her up the steps to the front door of the estate and rang the bell.

A tiny, middle-aged woman answered the door wearing a maid's uniform. "Mr. DiNozzo, Miss Dawson, welcome," she greeted in somewhat broken English. "Miss Linda and Master Anthony have been waiting for you."

"Please, Maria, how many times do I have to tell you-just call me Tony," the senior field agent stated.

Maria simply bowed her head and offered to take their bags to their room, shutting the door behind them. She disappeared up the massive staircase just as an attractive, blonde woman appeared on the stairs.

Linda Turner was every bit as graceful and elegant as the day Tony could first recall her. "Anthony! You made it!" she exclaimed, happily descending the stairs. She engulfed her godson and now future stepson in a warm embrace and pulled back smiling at him, patting his cheek, "Just as handsome as ever. What is it with you DiNozzo men? You only get better looking with age."

"Good genes I suppose," Tony said with a sad smile.

"Yes, I can agree with that," Linda said, turning her attention to Leah. "And this must be Leah. We've heard so many good things about you, my dear. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Ms. Turner for having us. You're already doing so much by letting us get married here."

Linda smiled warmly at her and placed her arm around Leah, leading her into the house, "Please, call me Linda, after all you are Anthony's fiancé and family. Now, you both must be tired. So, I will let you go and rest for the day. We aren't serving dinner until seven that will give you both plenty of time to unwind. Maria!"

Maria appeared as if out of nowhere and bowed her head. "Yes Miss Linda?"

"Please show Anthony and Leah to their room."

"Of course. Right this way Mr. DiNozzo, Miss Dawson."

Tony frowned and took Leah by the hand, following the small Puerto Rican woman up the stairs and down a long hallway. Their room was facing the ocean, decorated in nautical colors and he noticed that his father had left a bottle of Scotch on his pillow. Maria left them alone, softly closing the door behind her. Tony stood there, flashing back to when he was a child living in such opulence.

He was hoping that this trip would shake him from his depression, but the reminders around every corner of where he'd come from were just too much to bare. Not even being there with Leah was helping matters and somehow Tony had to survive until they went back to Washington on Monday.

Leah took her hair out of the scarf and ponytail, shaking it loose. "Your future stepmom seems nice."

"Would go against her upbringing to be rude to guests," Tony sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, watching her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling her sunglasses off and putting them back in her purse. "I thought you would be happy to be getting away from D.C for a while?"

"Nothing…just…this whole place…it brings back lots of memories."

"Some of them not good?"

Tony put the bottle of Scotch on the night stand, noticing that it was his father's favorite brand. The same brand that he had been forced as a child to pour for his dad every night he was home. "More often than not I wasn't here. Shipped away to boarding school and then the military academy because my dad thought I needed to toughen up."

Leah ran her tongue over her lips. "Why did he think that?"

He turned towards her and smiled, angrily. "Because I liked to cry. But it's pretty hard when you're eight and you've just buried your mother not to cry. He would tell me, 'Son, we're DiNozzos, and we do not cry'. I tried. Like hell. But...I missed her too much. And then he married my first stepmother and...I was nothing but an after thought."

"People react to grief in different ways, Tony. It wasn't your fault," Leah pointed out to him.

"But I was eight and my world had just fallen a part," he argued.

"You were close to your mother?"

"As close as I could get to her. She...she was pretty guarded herself at times."

Leah glanced down at the floor before she got the courage to look at him and ask the very question that had always gone unanswered between them, "How did she die?

Tony's shoulders instantly stiffened. He didn't want to talk about it. It just hurts too much. "Does it really matter? It happened over thirty years ago." He saw her glance at the ring on her finger. "If it makes you feel any better...my mother...she would have approved. She would have liked you."

"Tony..."

"I think I'm going to go take a walk on the beach. Care to join me?"

He got up off the bed, quickly before she could react. He turned and saw her eyes flash with hurt and disappointment. Tony fought with his own emotions. They weren't even married yet and he was already hurting her. The tremendous urge to run and hide returned, having only been gone for little more than a few hours. You have a great girl there, DiNozzo. Yes, boss, I do and she...God she doesn't deserve this. "Fresh air will feel good after being cooped up in planes and an airport, sweetheart," he told her with a fake smile.

She pondered his offer, saw the desperation in his eyes, and Leah wished that he wouldn't close up around her. She was trying to take her own advice to Gibbs, not to push him, but she felt him slipping away. And she wanted to help. "A walk on the beach sounds nice," she finally replied after several seconds of tense silence. "I think we both could use the opportunity to clear our heads."


	7. Some Things Never Change

"Ah, Junior, there you are!" Senior called out, happily through the din of the guests and raised is Scotch glass towards his son. "We were just talking about you!"

Tony clutched tightly to Leah's hand as they made their way towards his father. It didn't' surprise him that Linda had decided to throw an impromptu cocktail party in lieu of tomorrow night's black tie affair. Any excuse for the rich to party and drink. "Hope you were only telling them good things, Dad."

Senior grinned. "Of course I was! I had to tell these old boys that my son is a federal agent!" He caught sight of the young woman at his son's side and put his glass down. "You must be, Leah. Well…Junior told us all about you, of course, but you are exquisite, dear! Has anyone ever told you that you have the prettiest shade of blue eyes?"

"Your son, actually, when we first met," Leah said, smiling at him.

"He learned from the best," Senior replied, giving her hand a quick kiss. He latched onto her hand and looked at Tony. "You don't mind if I go show her off, do you Junior?" Before Tony could protest, Senior was gone, making his way through the crowd, introducing Leah as his "beautiful soon-to-be daughter-in-law."

Tony took this opportunity to go to the bar and get a drink. He had the young kid tending pour him a vodka martini and with the cocktail in his hand he turned to find out where his father had taken Leah. She had her arm laced through Senior's and she was being the perfectly, polite, little socialite. Of course, it was no surprise, she had grown up in a world very much like he had. She had just fared better and come out with less scars. Every time she looked up at him and smiled at him across the room he felt tightness in his chest, a fear cold and griping.

_You know what your problem is? You don't talk,_ a voice accused him. _Just…talk to her! Tell her what she needs to hear!_

And what was that exactly? Why his mother wasn't around to wear that engagement ring? Why his father married and married trying to replace her? Why he was always forgotten? Did she need to hear all that? The tightness in his chest grew. No—he concluded—she didn't need to hear it. She wanted to hear it…and that made all the difference in the world. He was hiding from her and he didn't need to hide. Perhaps that's what Gibbs was trying to get at when he told him that she was a great listener. _You have a great girl there, DiNozzo._ "Yeah," he whispered, "I know."

He sipped his drink as he walked towards his father, showing Leah off to one of Hamilton's old business partners. He slipped a hand around her waist and kissed her cheek, affectionately. "Gentlemen, hope you don't mind I'm going to steal her away for a few."

"She's a delight, Anthony," Senior remarked, giving Leah a hug. "Your mother would have approved."

"Yeah. I think she would have too," Tony whispered as he led Leah away towards the back patio. It was quieter out here and the sun had begun to set, but it was enough light to show the fantastic view of the Atlantic ocean that was going to be the back drop for their wedding. "Just wanted to show you where our ceremony is going to happen."

Leah was confused. "But I've already seen photos. You sent them to me."

Tony shook his head as he stepped up to the rail and let her get a better view of the ocean. "Yes, but…nothing compares to the _live_ view. So…what do you think?"

"It's…it's perfect," Leah said, with a big smile. She turned towards him, her black skirt fluttering in the breeze. "I can't thank your stepmother enough for doing this, for letting us use her home."

"For her, it's cathartic—something to she can do for my mom," Tony countered. "I think a part of her…always wished she could have done more for my mother before she died."

Leah could see the sadness in his eyes. She had tried to talk about it earlier that day, but Tony had put his walls up fast. "Well, whatever her reasons were, we got lucky because finding a venue at such a short notice would have been a nightmare."

Tony kissed her gently. "I would have married you at the Navy Yard as long as my family is there."

"Yeah…not too sure my parents would have gone for the Navy Yard," Leah teased. "It would have been hard to get three hundred guests onto the Navy Yard."

"Well…there really are only a handful of those that I _truly_ care about," Tony said, pulling her closer to him. He put his empty glass down on the rail and kissed her. He wrapped her into his arms to deepen the kiss, reality hitting him that in just four weeks they would be sharing their first kiss as husband and wife against this very backdrop.

Leah pulled back and slid her hands down the length of his arms. She grasped his hands in her own and smiled at him. "We don't want to be late for dinner."

Tony sighed, wishing they didn't have to go to dinner. "Yeah. My dad will just drag us in there." _That's what he used to do to me when I was a kid, anyways._ He gave her one more quick, tender kiss and then, grasping her hand, headed back inside the house to the massive dinning room that was set up with the fine china and candles.

For tonight the table was only set for a dozen or so people, but Tony knew that the following night, when Senior and Linda made the official announcement that Tony was engaged—it was going to be packed to the brim with old world money.

He felt like he was being judged the moment he stepped into the room. His father may have finally come to accept him as a federal agent but the men in that room certainly couldn't understand why he had walked away from the money his mother's family would have offered him to be a cop. Elizabeth had always told him to follow his heart, to be free and forge his own path like the ground-breaking stars of Hollywood. Tony often times found himself wondering what his mother would think of his becoming a cop. Would she be proud of him?

While his father's approval had always been important to him, never knowing what his mother's thoughts would have been wore him down as much as thinking about the manner of her death. Perhaps it was one reason why he needed people to approve of him so desperately.

Leah's smile broke his depressing thoughts and suddenly he felt that need for approval disappear in her eyes. She approved of him. She loved him. And he was not going to fail her, he was determined this time for things to be different. He felt the cold fear gripping his heart dissipate, the urge to run slowly start to leave. He had finally found someone to give him that affection, that love he never got as a child. Someone that didn't mind his flaws or spent her time trying to correct them. He couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering what his mother would have thought, or begging his father to just approve of his life decisions.

On some level, Tony knew that Senior was never truly going to change. Their relationship was the best it had been—ever—but the elder DiNozzo was who he was. He had said so when he visited for Christmas. After that awful visit Tony had just decided not to try so much to change his father. It wasn't worth the effort. Strangely when both men accepted that they were who they were, their relationship had improved, significantly. So far tonight his father had been surprisingly pleasant while drinking. Tony was anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You know, Junior could be leading his own team," Senior stated, between drinks. "Don't know why he's stayed in D.C so long."

_And there it is, the other shoe. A heavy, steal-toed boot,_ Tony thought, angrily as he resisted the urge to shout and roll his eyes. "Dad. I'm quite happy where I am."

Senior frowned. "But you're good enough—aren't you?"

"Not up for me to decide."

"Oh come on, Junior! You can say it here!"

"Say what, exactly?" Tony challenged, although he pretty much knew where his father was going with this conversation. Senior wanted him to admit he was better than the rest of his team, but that wasn't the truth. His team worked as just that, _a_ _team._ Their weaknesses and strengths complimented one another and he wasn't about to speak ill of them. Not here. Not ever.

Linda must have seen the dark, threatening look in his eyes. "No one came here to talk about work, Tony," she gently reminded Senior, " Let's just enjoy our company!"

Tony was relieved to see that his father took her suggestion and went about talking to his guests, leaving his son alone. The younger DiNozzo could sense though that this conversation wasn't over, no matter how much Tony wanted it to be.

He plotted his escape after dinner, citing a headache, and just as he made it to the stairs, his father snapped out, "Were you purposefully trying to make me look like an idiot in there?"

"No, Dad," Tony sighed, dropping his head. "I wasn't."

"Well, what the hell was that?" Senior questioned.

Slowly, Tony turned on the stairs and looked at his father. He had that same look in his eyes, the one that a scared little boy always got if Senior's drink wasn't prepared just the right way after a long day. "I'm perfectly happy where I am, Dad. I'm surrounded by good people on the job and I don't think I'm better than any of them."

Senior scoffed. "Gibbs said…"

"I know what Gibbs said," Tony cut him off. "You've thrown it in my face before." He ended the conversation this time by turning and proceeding up the stairs.

"Junior! Don't turn your back on me! I haven't dismissed you yet!"

"Dismissed me?" Tony countered, spinning about. "I'm not eight! I can _dismiss_ myself."

Senior's face clouded over with fury and Tony knew he'd crossed the line. How many times had he seen that look as a teen? Or when he was in college pursuing a career in sports? Thankfully he was spared a tongue lashing because Leah appeared behind his father and smiled at her fiancé. "Oh! There you are! I was going to change and go for a walk on the beach. Maybe it will help your headache?"

Tony let his glare leave Senior and soften as it traveled towards Leah. "Sure. Sounds great." He held his hand out to her and she took the steps quickly to grasp it between slender fingers. Leading her back up the stairs and out of sight, he brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing it. He didn't need to say _thank you,_ because she knew. And it was just one of the many reasons that he had fallen in love with her.

* * *

Gibbs stared at the report that Meredith had managed to dig up for him. His already tired and aching bones just ached even more after reading it. He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a small sigh.

"Jethro," Ducky's voice caught him off guard. "Is everything alright? You seem to be stuck under the same rain cloud as Anthony these last couple of days."

"Tony has plenty of reasons to be stuck under that cloud," Gibbs mumbled, closing the file. "Did you know his mother died in a crash?"

Ducky blinked, surprised. Tony never spoke about his mother and when he did mention his past they were vague references that one really had to dissect to get to the bottom of. "I was not aware that was how Mrs. DiNozzo passed. Oh my. It would explain Anthony's state of mind with his wedding so close."

Gibbs thought about Leah, standing in that wedding shop looking radiant. It was too bad Tony couldn't have seen her because it would have washed all his worries away. "She drove home from a friend's house and wrapped her car around a tree. Didn't die on impact, that was a few days later, but with the massive head trauma, she probably would have been brain dead. She was drunk and…she was on Valium for depression. None in her system the night she died, but she still had them at her disposal."

"Good heavens," Ducky whispered, "that is a lot for an eight year old boy to deal with and with a father like Senior…"

"Senior was the one to order his wife to be taken off life support," Gibbs said, standing. He rubbed his face again. "There wasn't much hope of survival."

Ducky nodded his head, not sure what he would have done in a similar situation. And then a thought popped into his brain, something that Tony had said to him a long time ago, "Anthony mentioned being at the hospital when his mother died."

Gibbs looked the medical examiner in the eye. "Yes. Senior asked that she be kept on life support long enough to say good-bye. Both Tony and his father were present when she passed."

"Jethro…he can't keep this bottled inside…not with this case," Ducky pointed out.

"I'm hoping that he talks to Leah this weekend. He seems comfortable talking to her," Gibbs replied, gently.

"And if he doesn't?"

Gibbs sighed. "Then I'm scared for him, Duck. I'm scared he'll run…and disappear. Because we both know he has the knowledge and the means to do just that."


	8. August 1980

**August 1980**

He loved going into the city with his mother. The theatre she took him too was rundown and old, but Anthony didn't care. It was the only time that he saw his mother for who she really was. A carefree spirit that was bogged down by the society that they lived in.

When she was with her son she laughed more, she smiled more. She was happy. Elizabeth never said she was sad, but Anthony was smart, perceptive, he knew just by looking at her that she wasn't truly happy. He wasn't sure his father saw it. Senior was hardly around, always away on some business trip, closing out some deal. And when he was home, well, Anthony had learned to stay away from him most of the time. Unless of course Senior wanted to see him.

It was when Senior was away that his mother took him into the city. His father didn't understand their love of movies or the time they spent going to see them. And he certainly didn't understand Elizabeth's love of a rundown theatre. But Anthony did. Movies were magical, an escape, and he could be transported anywhere in time or space. And the summer before she died, they spent a lot of time at the movies because Senior was insisting that his son get a proper education and Anthony was off to boarding school in the fall.

Elizabeth had given him a camera for his birthday, so he could take pictures while he was at school, but he had burned through the film that summer, photographing everything. The last photo had been used up just outside their favorite theatre, by a sweet old lady that had offered to take their photograph.

On their way home from that last trip Elizabeth caught her eight year old son looking at her engagement ring. "Someday, Anthony, I'm going to give this to you."

"What for?" Anthony asked, confused. As far as he knew mothers and sons did not get married.

"What for!" Elizabeth repeated with a laugh, kissing his cheek. "So you can tell her that you want to spend forever with her!"

Anthony blinked as the car moved along the city streets, heading back out towards Long Island. "Mom...do think...do think she'll like movies? Just like you?"

Elizabeth smiled. She had a beautiful smile. Often times he was told he smiled just like her. "Yes. I think she will like movies. And I think she will be pretty and smart and will love you just as much as I do. I do not want you settling for anything less, Anthony. You are special, sweetheart, and she is going to have to be just as special."

"I hope she likes pizza, too," Anthony said, grinning.

"She _has_ to like pizza," Elizabeth stated, running her fingers through her son's hair. "But...you have plenty of time to find her, okay?"

Anthony nodded. "Okay...Mom...do think we could still go to the movies...even when I'm grown up?"

Elizabeth hugged him, tightly. "Oh, Anthony, as long as we are together and there are movies, we can go see them."

He liked the sound of that. He snuggled into his mother's embrace and soon drifted off to sleep, content that everything in his world was as it should be. It would be just a few short weeks that Anthony was going to be handed the harsh realities of the world, when his mother was taken from him far too soon, tearing his world to shreds and leaving him to pick up the pieces.


	9. One Step Forward, a Thousand Steps Back

As the sun came up that morning across the Hamptons, the water was like glass. Tony watched as the world around him became alive, a cup of coffee in his hand. His was dressed in lounge pants and a tee shirt, his feet were bare and hair was a mess from sleep, but he was relaxed and calm for the first time in days.

Walking on the beach with Leah last night, her hand in his own, showed him how incredibly fortunate he truly was. He had found a wonderful girl to spend the rest of his life with, why would he want to run away from that? She had been right—this weekend away from Washington was what they both needed, and since he didn't get to see her over the summer, well…it was a good time to catch up on other things. After all, they had been separated for three months, except for one romantic weekend in Cairo back in July. He grinned, Bogey and Berman would always have Paris—they would always have Cairo.

He finished his coffee and went back inside his bedroom. Leah was sprawled out underneath the covers, fast asleep still and Tony stood there for a moment just watching her. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that this beautiful woman was going to be his wife in just a few short weeks. He put the mug down on the nightstand and gently reached out with one finger, pushing her hair back to reveal her face. _I think she will like movies. And I think she will be pretty and smart and love you just as much as I do._

Tony let a sad smile grace his features as he watched her sleep. His mother had wanted a loving relationship for her son. She had wanted him to find someone that loved him for _who_ he was. At the age of eight he hadn't gotten the meaning behind her words, but now, over thirty years later, he did understand them. "I wish you could have met her, Mom," he whispered, so he wouldn't disturb Leah. "You would have really liked her."

Leah's eyes fluttered open at the feathery touch and she smiled at him. "Why are you up so early?"

"Wanted to watch the sun rise," he said, softly, climbing back into bed with her. He wrapped her into his arms and kissed her on the cheek. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"You're in a better mood," she pointed out, smiling at him while she traced a finger along his cheekbone.

"Just seeing that ring on your finger puts me in a good mood," Tony replied, bringing his mouth to hers in a tender embrace. "I meant what I said yesterday—she would have liked you."

Leah smiled at him. "Tell me about her."

Tony sighed and let his eyes roam over her face. "She loved movies. We used to go to this little old rundown theatre in the city. I think…I think she liked the escape of them. She would always tell me that someday she was going to give me that ring so I could tell her that I want to spend forever with her—that she was pretty and smart and loved me just as much as she did."

"She sounds interesting. I think I would have liked her."

"I think you would have gotten along with her swimmingly."

Leah sat up, pushing herself up against the headboard. Her blue eyes studied him for a moment, trying to gage if he was ready to talk to her—if he was ready for the question she was about to ask.

Tony seemed to know what she wanted to ask next and he looked away, briefly. When he looked back at her, his green eyes were sad. "It was a car accident," he said, softly. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. "She…got into this fight with my dad and…well…she came here. Had too many glasses of wine and…wrapped her car around a tree. She…passed a few days later in a New York City hospital. I…I was with her, holding her hand. We were watching a movie. Or well…I was watching a movie, my mother never regained consciousness."

"I'm sorry, Tony," she whispered.

"I've never been…I've never been able to talk about it before, with anyone."

"Do you…feel better?"

Tony shifted and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "I don't know about better—but I feel more at peace with it."

Leah smiled and slipped out of his arms, kissing his cheek. "You know you don't have to hide from me, right? I don't care about your past. It made you who you are and the man that I fell in love with." She took his face between her hands and gently kissed him. "Are you worried that your past—your father—is going to change my mind about you?"

"Doesn't it bother you, that my father was a drunk who beat his eight year old to deal with his grief?"

"Sure it bothers me. But that was your father. I fell in love with you."

Tony wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. "I promise you, Leah. I'm going to be a better father to our children than that man ever was to me."

Leah's eyes softened and she lightly ran her fingers through his hair. "I know," she whispered.

For a moment, he searched her eyes. It was ironic that all those years ago, when he'd been a lost, lonely eight year old little boy and was dreaming of the day that he was going to find love and happiness, that this woman had yet to be born. Tony kissed her, gently, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her close to him. "I love you," he breathed, breaking their embrace. Slowly he laid down on the bed, bringing her with him. He rolled her over onto her back and let his fingers wander underneath her shirt.

"We don't want to be late for breakfast," Leah chided him.

"My father had enough Scotch last night to supply the county," Tony replied, kissing the hollow of her neck. "We won't be late for breakfast."

* * *

 

The smell of coffee greeted Tony when he finally ventured downstairs for breakfast. Leah had gone for a run on the beach, tried to get him to come with her, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was thankful to only find Linda at the table, not ready to face his father after last night. His stepmother glanced up from her paper and smiled at him, sweetly. "Come, sit with me for a few moments, Anthony. Have a cup of coffee."

Tony slowly sat down next to her and went to pour his coffee when the maid came out of nowhere and did it for him. He thanked her, politely, but she refused to look him in the eye and simply curtsey before slipping back into the shadows. Tony, uncomfortable with how the hired help treated him, reached for the cream and sugar and began to prepare his coffee the way he liked it.

"Did you sleep well last night, dear?" Linda asked him. "I know you left dinner with a headache."

"Yes. Slept fine. Leah and I took a walk on the beach before bed. It helped with the headache," Tony lied, sipping his coffee. "Where's my dad?"

"Still asleep. Too much Scotch last night," Linda replied, chuckling.

 _More like too much Scotch every night_ , Tony thought as a plate of food was put in front of him. His stomach grumbled at the smell of eggs and bacon. It had been hours since he last ate. Now that he'd made some sort of peace with his mother's passing and talked to Leah about it, he felt some relief from his depressing thoughts just a few days ago. But there was still the matter of his fear of failure.

He thought back to that necklace in his desk. It was almost like she had wanted Tony to have a piece of her, but Ziva couldn't be bothered to stay in touch. She had always been a conundrum. She hadn't returned his call from January when he'd informed her that he'd met someone, that he was looking for some kind of sign on what she wanted him to do. When she didn't answer, that had been his signal to let go and move on. But didn't she have the right to know that he was getting married? Maybe she had found someone herself and was just as happy as he was. Maybe…

"You should have come for a run on the beach," Leah's voice broke his concentration. "It was nice." She kissed his cheek and sat down. Her hair was still wet from her shower on the ends and she was dressed in a simple green top and jeans.

"Maybe tomorrow," Tony said with a smile, feeling guilty for brushing her off because he was thinking about calling a woman he'd once held feelings for.

Linda put her paper down and looked eagerly at Leah. "Your mother sent me photographs of your dress. It's gorgeous. Anthony isn't going to know what hit him when he sees you in it."

Leah giggled when Tony feigned a hurt expression, "Hey! That's not nice, teasing me like that," he said with a pout.

"You'll get to see it soon," Leah promised him.

"It's still not nice…teasing me like this," Tony glowered.

"You're cute when you're mad."

"Obviously you've never really seen me mad."

She kissed his cheek again as a plate of food was put in front of her. "Thank God, I'm starving!"

Tony watched, lovingly as she gobbled it up. "You know…running seems counterproductive if you're going to eat like that," he teased her.

Leah grinned at him. "It's why I run—so I can eat like this."

"Oh!" Linda said, eagerly. "We haven't discussed your honeymoon!"

"What is there to discuss?" Tony asked cautiously.

Linda laughed. "Your father and I want to pay for it, Anthony, as our gift to you. But we have no idea where you two are going!"

Leah glanced at Tony, asking if it was all right to talk about it, and he gently nodded. "We're going to Venice."

"Oh…it's a beautiful city," Linda said, smiling. "We'll be so happy to give you two a nice honeymoon."

"You don't have to do that, Linda," Tony interjected. "I have that money that my mom left me as well as Grandpa Paddington."

Linda shook her head. "Nonsense, Anthony! You should use that money to buy a house so you can start a family! It's what Lizzie would have wanted."

Tony bit down on his lip. If Linda said it was what his mother would want, who was he to argue? Because he didn't know what his mother would have thought about this whole thing. She wasn't here to talk to him about it. "Thanks, Linda," he whispered finishing up his coffee. "I…we appreciate it."

Leah reached under the table and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. Tony decided to let the issue drop. Instead, he finished his breakfast listening to Leah and Linda chat about wedding plans. Before getting up from the table, he kissed his future wife, gently and then decided to go sit outside and enjoy the sunshine. It wasn't often that he got to relax, not with the job, so he was going to lap it up.

"Oh, Junior…" his father's voice stopped him on his trek outside. "I was hoping to see you…before tonight of course."

"Dad," Tony said, coolly, turning on his heel to gaze at his father.

Senior was shaved and showered and dressed, looking like he had not consumed an ounce of alcohol the night before. But that was Senior for you. "Listen…I know this trip didn't get off on the right foot for us and…"

Tony waved his hand to dismiss him. "Don't worry about it, Dad. Water under the bridge."

"Oh…have you had breakfast?"

"Yeah. Just ate with Leah and Linda. By the way…thanks for the honeymoon. You didn't have too, Dad."

Senior shrugged his shoulders. "It was the least I could do, son. Linda and I…we both feel guilty that your mother isn't here to see you get married and settle down."

Tony was slightly puzzled as to why his father was feeling guilty. True, it had been the argument that had run his mother from the house, but his father and mother argued quite a bit those last few months. "She chose to drive home drunk, Dad. Not you. Not Linda."

"Linda didn't force her to stay and I…I've always felt…awful for being the one…the one that…that asked she be taken off life support."

"What?"

Senior's eyes went wide for a moment. It had never occurred to him that his son was not aware that he'd done so. "Your mother…she was effectively brain dead. She never…she never would have had a full life."

Tony clenched his fists at his sides. "You took her off life support," he snapped. "How…how could you do that?"

"Junior…please…"

"Don't!" Tony shouted, which caught the attention of both Leah and Linda, who appeared in the hall to investigate. "Don't Junior me! Nothing you say is going to justify what you did! She had only been in the hospital for two days! Two! You didn't even give her a chance!"

Linda glanced at him, sympathetically. "Anthony…there was nothing the doctors could do for Lizzie. She would have needed extensive care."

Tony was shaken with anger. He'd just been told his father had pulled the plug on his mother. His father had plunged his only son into a dark, cold, lonely world where he would be longing for love and acceptance into his adult years. "Then he should have gotten it for her!"

"Junior…it was a difficult decision for me…I knew how close you were to her…but…she wasn't going to be that mother to you anymore," Senior tried to reason with him.

"I can't…I just can't do this right now," Tony choked out, his eyes becoming glassy. He marched outside, and slammed the door shut behind him.

Leah stood there with Linda and Senior in silence, feeling like all the progress that her and Tony had made that morning had now been completely dissolved. One step forward, about thousand steps back.


	10. For the Best

"Tony?"

He turned to see her standing at a safe distance behind him. "My father send you out here?" Tony accused, an edge to his voice that she had never heard before. "Just like Senior, always sending someone else to fix his problems."

Leah shook her head, keeping her distance. "No. Your father didn't send me out here. But…he feels awful for how you found out about your mother."

Tony chuckled, harshly. "Wonderful. Don't know how he does it—turns everyone to his side. You should see the way my team fawns over him when he shows up for a visit. At times he even has Gibbs on his side." He picked a stone up and chucked it out across the crashing waves. "I should have guessed he'd have my fiancée wrapped around his little pinky finger too."

"I am not wrapped around _anyone's_ finger," Leah snapped, glaring at the back of his head. "Just…you need to try to understand his point of view."

"His point of view?" Tony yelled, spinning about on his heel. "It was always about _his point of view!_ "

Leah recalled what he said just a short while ago at breakfast. _Obviously you've never seen me mad._ He was right. He wasn't so cute when he was angry, truly angry. His eyes were burning and she instinctively took a step back. Not that she thought he was going to hurt her, just that his physical presence in her space was unnerving. Her stepping away from him had a profound affect on him. He cooled almost instantly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, stepping back slightly, rubbing his face with his hands. They smelled like the ocean from picking up rocks and throwing them. "This…this isn't your fault or your mess to clean up."

"Is there really that much of a mess?" she questioned. "Your mother never would have walked again, talked, or even been able to bathe herself. Is that the kind of life do you think the carefree spirit that you described to me would have wanted?"

Tony shook, wanting to drown out her reasoning to stay mad at his father. "You…you grew up in a household where _you_ were important. Not shoved aside like some..some obligation. I don't expect you to understand."

Leah glanced down at her shoes for a moment, trying to pick her words carefully. "You're right. I don't understand what it was like growing up without my family there. But what I do understand is that your father did what he thought was best. He's grieved too you know. Imagine what it must have been like—ordering that the plug be pulled, ending the life of the woman he loved and the mother of his child. What would you have done? What if it was _me_ that was never going to live without being attached to a machine?"

"You can't expect me to answer that type of question."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what I'd do!"

She pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes welded with tears. "Then you can't be mad at your father for doing it. Be mad at him for other things…but not about a decision that was made over three decades ago. Be mad that he chose to tell you so carelessly, be mad that he kept it from you for so long and wasn't honest with you—but not at the decision to end your mother's life. It was better for her. She wasn't suffering anymore."

He watched as the wind blew her hair across her face and knew that she was right. His father had committed a lot of offenses against him over the years—but to be mad at him about a decision that Tony himself didn't know what he'd do—it was just going to tear him up. He reached out for her and pulled her close, shutting his eyes and burying his face in her hair. He felt her arms hook around his waist, tightly and she pressed her face into his chest. It was hard to believe that he'd only known her for little less than a year and yet she knew him so well—that she knew just what to say to calm him and make him feel better. He sighed and kissed her temple. "If only I had met you sooner—it would have saved me from a lot of failed relationships."

"Guess it just took us longer to find one another," Leah said, feeling his arms loosen around her and pull back. She smiled at him. "But we did. Are you happy we did?"

"Yes," Tony replied, softly, searching her face. "Yes. Because no one has loved me or understood me like you do."

"Are you going to be okay for tonight?"

_Tonight._ He didn't want to think about it, yet, he had too. It would be rude of him not to attend Linda's party. After all, she wasn't the one responsible for his father's ill decisions. But just the thought of having to rub elbows with the very people that used to frown upon him made his stomach twist. "As long as you're there, with me, at my side—I'll be okay."

Her smile brightened. "Do you want me at your side when you go talk to your father?"

"Do I have too?"

"Yes. You can't let this hang between you forever. You've done enough of that."

Tony let go of her and ran his hands over his face. "You're right. But I need to do this on my own. It's time that I stood up to him, time that I fought my own battles with him and not let someone else do it for me."

* * *

He wasn't surprised to find his father sitting in the back parlor with a drink in hand. That was Senior's response to everything, especially when things got rough. Tony paused in the entrance of the parlor. As a kid this is where he would stop if he saw his old man with a drink, but it was time to take matters into his own hands.

Tony squared his shoulders and pulled down on his shirt. He took confident strides into the parlor, stopping next to his father. "Dad."

Senior glanced up and smiled at him, relief in his eyes. "Oh, good, you didn't leave. I was afraid…"

"What? That I was going to run?" Tony snapped, angrily.

"Well, you've been known to overreact and do this before, Junior."

Tony swallowed the angry bile in his throat. "Overreact? I just found out that my mother's life was terminated by your orders. How was I supposed to react? _That's okay, Dad. I understand._ Guess what? That's not how it works. I probably will never _understand_ your decision. Hope that I never have to make a similar one. But after all these years, you didn't think to tell me?"

Senior took a sip of his drink and set it down on the table. "Junior…I didn't think you needed to know. You loved your mother, so much, and well, you were a boy when she died. I knew you wouldn't understand back then. So I decided…I decided as your father to keep it from you."

"And as my _father_ you decided that I didn't need to know until I was forty-three?" Tony snapped, his hands slightly shaken with anger.

"I never meant to tell you…it just slipped…"

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His father never took blame. Ever. "Right. Well. It was so nice to hear that you offered to host my wedding, pay for my honeymoon out of guilt. I actually thought you were doing it because you cared—that you were happy for me."

Senior shook his head. "Junior! We are happy for you!"

"We? What about _you,_ Dad?" His father didn't say anything for a moment and Tony's eyes narrowed. "Dad? Something you want to say to me?"

Senior grabbed his drink and downed the rest of it. "Listen. I was very happy to hear that you were in a relationship when I visited you in February and gave you your mother's ring. And I was equally as pleased to hear that you had proposed. But…Junior…you don't think you're rushing things?"

Tony clenched his fists tightly together, to prevent himself from striking his father. "I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her—have a family with her—is your problem really with how fast we're getting married or with Leah?"

"No! No, Leah is wonderful! Both Linda and I adore her!"

"Then what's the issue, Dad?"

"She just…she doesn't seem…your type."

"How would you know what my _type_ is, Dad? You barely call unless you need something, you only visit once a year and there was that time that we never spoke," Tony spat, angrily, "So really, how would you know what my type is?"

Senior frowned at his son. It was true. His son had a valid point—they didn't communicate very much or well for that matter. "I don't want you rushing into something like this so hastily. And without protecting your assets."

Tony's eyes lit up with understanding then and anger. "You're angry that I didn't sign a prenup."

"I'd hate to see your mother's money go to Leah in a divorce. Lizzie wanted that money to be for you."

"You look into Leah's finances?"

Senior's face paled slightly. "I had to in order for my lawyer to draw up the prenuptial agreement."

Tony's whole body shook with rage at that point. It was such an invasion of privacy, and against everything that Leah and Tony wanted. Of course, that was his father, thinking about what _he_ would do and want and not about his son. Tony growled under his breath and spun about. He should have said no to this God awful weekend. He should have just turned his father down and thanked Linda for the nice gesture of the party. He knew that nothing good was going to come of this visit and nothing had. Upstairs Leah was sitting on their bed reading a book and she was startled when he stormed into their room, surprised when he began to pack their belongings. "We're leaving."

Leah closed her book and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Tony…"

"Son of a bitch thinks that he can still run my life!" Tony raged, folding their clothes haphazardly and tossing them into the luggage. "I knew this was a bad idea! I knew we should have just stayed in Washington!"

"Tony…" Leah tried again but he ignored her.

"A lawyer, Leah! He called his lawyer and had his lawyer draft a prenuptial agreement for us! What was he going to do? Force me to sign the day of the wedding? Threaten to not host it here?" Tony snapped, slamming the drawers on the dresser shut. He flung the closet open and pulled out the garment bags that contained his suits and her evening gowns. "He keeps redrawing the line in the sand and then crossing over it!"

Leah stood there and watched as he packed everything up. She wasn't surprised that his father was angry they hadn't signed a prenuptial agreement—her own father was weary that they hadn't signed one—but she couldn't imagine her father going ahead and doing it himself. "Tony?"

Tony finally stopped his mad session of packing and looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Do you want me to call the airline?"

"No," he said shaking his head, zipping up the suitcase. "I have a better idea."

Leah looked at him with confusion. "A better idea?"

Tony nodded, found her bag and put her book into it. He held it out to her and then after she had taken it gathered their stuff up and brought it downstairs. Leah followed behind him, noticed that the maid was watching them with wide eyes as they did so. Tony carried their belongings out to the rental car, tossed everything in the trunk and then slammed it shut. When he turned he saw his father, Linda behind him, rushing out of the house. "Get in the car, Leah," he instructed his fiancée.

"Junior! Where are you going?" Senior gasped when he reached his son. "I understand you're angry about the lawyer…but it's necessary!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Tony snapped at him. "You don't get that I am perfectly capable of running my own life. I don't need your help. I've been doing it since I was twelve! I'm not signing any damn prenuptial agreement. And if that means I have to find somewhere else to get married—I will. Leah and I are leaving, Dad. I'm sorry, Linda, about the party, but I think it's best that we go, before things get even worse."

Senior's eyes turned dark. "Don't you dare walk out on us! She's worked hard to make this perfect for you!"

Tony set his jaw, opened the door to the Mustang. "Then you should have thought about that _before_ you stuck your nose where it doesn't belong." He got into the car and slammed the door shut. In no time the modern version of a vintage classic was all the way down the driveway and back on the road.

Leah didn't say a word, until they were about a mile from the house. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not about what happened."

"Alright, that's fine."

"Leah."

"Yes?"

Tony looked at her, felt his body ease seeing the love and understanding in her eyes. "I love you."

Leah smiled, gently at him. "I love you, too."

* * *

Gibbs was pulled from his easy slumber by his cell phone ringing. Grumbling he found the offensive piece of technology and glanced at the screen, expecting to see McGee or Bishop's number come up alerting him to a case. But it wasn't either one of them. "Something wrong, Balboa?"

" _JAG lawyer was just involved in a horrific crash,"_ the other agent answered. " _My team's working on it. There was something interesting that we discovered though while collecting some information—lawyer was working with Winters' and his team on some kind of case."_

"And they both died within days of each other in a car accident," Gibbs stated, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face.

Balboa chuckled. " _I know what you think about coincidences, Gibbs. That's why I gave you a ring. Going to have a toxicology report done on the lawyer, standard procedure of course. I'll let you know if we find anything else. Sorry to wake you."_

Gibbs shook his head. "Didn't wake me," he said, snapping the phone shut. He dialed Ducky. "Duck, I know it's late. But I need you to pull blood samples of the rest of Winters' team…just…something doesn't feel right. I'll meet you at NCIS in thirty minutes." With a sigh the team leader got off the sofa and stretched. It was going to be a long night, perhaps a even longer weekend and with Tony away…Gibbs just hoped the SFA's weekend was going better than his own.

 


	11. Target

Gibbs paced the length of Abby's lab. He was getting antsy. Not that he was a patient person to begin with, but something didn't sit right with this case in his gut. He'd known it from the moment that car turned up in a ditch with the four dead agents. Winters' never would have driven had he willingly—or knowingly—taken Valium. He would have had one of his other agents drive.

"Pacing doesn't make me work faster," Abby reminded him with a smile. "What are you hoping I'll find exactly?"

"That _all_ the agents had Valium in their system and this _wasn't_ an accident," Gibbs snapped, stopping his mad pacing. "I want to give those families some kind of closure." He pulled his phone out and stared at it, contemplating giving Tony a call. But…Tony was probably at some party with Leah and he didn't want to interrupt.

Abby's machine finally gave a beep and she went to pull the tox report from the printer—and frowned at it. "All four agents had traces of Valium in their system. Gibbs…does this mean…"

Gibbs scowled. "Yeah…it means we have a murderer on the loose." Now he _had_ to call Tony. He hit speed dial for the SFA's number and immediately got the voicemail. He frowned. DiNozzo knew better than to break rule three—even if he was away for the weekend. "Abs? Can you trace's Tony's cell phone?"

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, in a near panic.

"He didn't answer."

Abby's fingers flew over the keyboard. "He last used the phone in New York, City. Gibbs…I thought he was in the Hamptons for the weekend?"

Gibbs felt his gut tingle. _What did Senior do now?_ "He was. Do you have an address or area that he used it in?"

"Manhattan. Near SoHo."

"See if you can get in touch with Leah," Gibbs replied, flying from the lab. "Find out what's going on!" Right now he had a killer to catch and Tony's apparent _flight_ was going to have to wait to be addressed until later…much later.

* * *

He knew that when he returned from his coffee run that Abby wasn't successful in tracking down Tony or Leah. McGee just confirmed Gibbs' suspicion. "Abby wasn't able to get in touch with Leah," the younger man reported nervously. "So I…um…I called his father."

"And?" Gibbs asked, almost dreading the answer.

McGee winced. "I guess they had some argument over a prenuptial agreement and Tony blew out of there, taking Leah with him. He didn't know where they were heading and he assumes that Tony's cell phone is off so he doesn't have to speak to his father."

Gibbs sighed and gave his head a little shake. They were going to have to just keep working on this case without Tony, at least until the SFA finally turned his phone back on and saw that he had missed calls and messages. "All right, well…let's focus on what we do know. Bishop—you manage to get anything from JAG with Balboa?"

Bishop frowned. "Agent Winters and Lieutenant Weber have never worked on a case together until last year, when a marine, Major Gary Hingham, was murdered at his home in Virigina. NCIS arrested the marine's neighbor, a marine dependent. It was his hammer that was used to kill Hingham. He was tried and convicted."

"So, if that case happened over a year ago, why did both Winters' team and Weber end up dead in very similar fashions?" McGee asked.

"JAG was going to look into Weber's cases," Bishop replied. " but they were just as confused as we were as to why these two car accidents were so similar."

Gibbs felt a black cloud hanging over his head, the walls closing in on him. This case was going no where. Winters wasn't investigating any kind of case that would warrant murdering for a cover up or revenge. And he certainly wasn't working on anything with Lieutenant Weber. Unless this whole thing wasn't connected to that case at all. Someone was out to murder NCIS agents, JAG officers and the clock was ticking on who was going to be the next victim. "McGee…pull the list of recently released prisoners connected to any and all NCIS cases."

McGee glanced at Bishop. "Boss? I don't understand…"

" _Someone_ is targeting NCIS agents and JAG officers. And they're using Valium, something that can easily be obtained, to do so."

"A silent killer," Bishop mused. "By the time the driver realized it was in their system it was too late."

Gibbs licked his lips and turned towards the elevator. "McGee! Get on the phone with Vance, alert him to the threat!"

McGee nodded and then, "Wait? Where are you going?"

"Metro! To pull their records for theft of Valium in the last six months!"

"What about Tony?"

"Find him!"

Bishop stared, listlessly at McGee for a moment. "Find him? He shut his phone off, we don't know where in New York City he is. It's a big city! They could be anywhere."

McGee glanced at his computer. "He's going to kill me for this later…but…I'm pulling his credit cards."

"Is this a good idea?"

"If someone is out to get agents…he's going to want to know about it."

Bishop wasn't entirely comfortable with looking into Tony's credit card statements to try and find him, but McGee had a point. She picked up her phone and cradled it against her ear, "You do that, I'll call Vance."

McGee smiled, softly and finally got a location for Tony—at some hotel in Manhattan.

* * *

Tony was surprised to see that his mother's favorite theatre was still in operation. It had been a rundown mess when he'd been a kid but now…it was sparkling clean, restored to its old glory. It still had its old fashioned marquis and the façade had been freshly painted. He stood there across the street, staring at it like it was a ghost—which it was—a ghost from his past.

Leah started across the street but he pulled her back. "Come on!" she said with a laugh. "Don't you want to go see a movie?"

"I just…I need a moment."

"Okay."

Tony closed his eyes for a second. He could see his mother, laughing, smiling, excited about going to see _The Little Prince_ with her little prince. She had been so happy that day and just a few hours later, well, she had gotten into that fight with his father and she had been in the car accident. He swallowed the memories and opened his eyes. It wasn't a dollar matinée that was playing, rather it was close to evening and he was sure it was going to cost much more for their tickets tonight. But…that didn't matter. What mattered was that they were _here._ He smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze.

Leah led the way across the street, her beaming, excited face reminding him of the way his mother used to look when they came here. His father may have been an ass to him the last two days, but Senior was right about something—Lizzie would have adored Leah.

Memories rushed at him when they stepped inside. Everything looked the same. It had been restored to probably attract more patrons but to Tony it looked as it did the last day he was there with his mother. This had been Leah's idea. At first he had balked at the idea but now that he was here, he felt a sense of closure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when they got to their seats.

"Why?" she asked with a mouthful of buttery popcorn.

"Because…because of my father…"

"Seriously? You're apologizing for your dad getting a prenuptial agreement drafted behind your back?"

Tony frowned at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Guess it is a force of habit—cleaning up the old man's messes. Started when I was kid and he would get so drunk he'd throw up all over the floor in the study. I shouldn't be surprised that even years later I'm still cleaning up after him."

Leah leaned over and kissed him, softly on the cheek. "You don't have to apologize. We're still getting our romantic weekend. We're just…improvising at this point."

He laughed and put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "We're improvising a lot then. But you're not even a little bit mad at me…that we might not have a venue for our wedding that is just three weeks away."

"No. I'm not mad. We'll figure something out if we have too," she said.

"I'll call my dad in the morning…"

"Tony! No! He has to call you!"

"Why?"

Leah looked at him incredulously. "This is your father's problem to fix—not you! If that means we have to find another venue or have to push the wedding back—we will."

Tony sighed, his heart heavy. "Leah…I want…you should get your dream wedding."

"I don't need all that…I just…need you," Leah said, her eyes glistening.

He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her as the movie started. And finally, after such a long inner battle, he came to the conclusion that all he really needed was just her too.

 


	12. Depend On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M-rated chapter, expanding upon what I originally posted on Fanfic.

Tony rubbed the charm between his fingers as the taxicab moved slowly through the streets of New York. He had given Leah some lame excuse to what he was up to, but, he didn't want her to know that he was about to meet with Schmiel. Because then he had to explain who the man was and why he was going to see him.

And he just wasn't prepared to go there just yet.

He paid the driver handsomely when he was dropped off at the brownstone. Schmiel welcomed him with open arms and a warm smile. Tony had always liked the man and he was happy that Ziva had someone in her life that she could depend on. "What brings you to my home, Anthony?" the elderly Israeli asked, inviting Tony to sit down. "It has been some time since I have seen you."

"I…I have something that I need you to get to Ziva," Tony admitted, sheepishly. "The last time one of us sent her something it came back…and we don't have a current address for her. But…it doesn't feel right keeping this."

"Ziva gave that to you…as a gift," Schmiel replied when he saw what Tony was holding up.

Tony frowned, slightly and glanced at the gold necklace in his hand, the Star of David delicately hanging off of the chain. "It's a gift that I cannot accept…not anymore. She…made her clean break, she had months to think about it while I looked for her, and when I found her…she didn't give me much time to sit on the idea of a clean break. I think…I think that's why she gave me this. So now…everything has come full circle. I've made my clean break. It's time to give the necklace back."

Schmiel looked at him sadly. "Ziva wanted you to be happy and she knew that she could not give that too you. But before I take this, Anthony—are you happy now?"

"Yes."

"And this woman, she gives that happiness to you?"

"She does," Tony said with a smile, not surprised that Schmiel knew that his showing up involved a woman. "Very much."

"Then I think," Schmiel said, "it is time for the necklace to return to its former owner."

* * *

On his way back to the hotel, Tony stopped to pick up a few things. Fresh cut flowers, take out from a highly recommended brunch place from the concierge. He felt relaxed, at ease, free from the demons. He'd put his mother's passing behind him—he'd put Ziva behind him. Now, there was nothing but the future ahead of him. And it was a bright looking one indeed.

"Mr. DiNozzo," the clerk at the front desk stopped him. "You have a message, sir."

"From who?" Tony asked, a slight edge to his voice. His fingers tightened around the flowers he'd bought. "My father?"

The clerk shook his head. "No. It's from an Agent McGee. He said it was urgent that you call him."

McGee? Why was his partner calling him and leaving messages at the front desk? Why didn't he just call his cell phone— _oh,_ Tony realized when he pulled his phone out, _because your phone is off._ He thanked the clerk and as he turned his phone on, he hit speed dial for McGee and climbed into the elevator.

" _Tony! Thank God!"_ McGee gasped, exhausted. " _Gibbs is ready to send the FBI swarming New York City!"_

"Sorry…" Tony mumbled, "It's been…well…it was a rough couple of days with my dad…didn't want him reaching me."

" _Listen you don't need to apologize. You just…you just need to know that we think…we think the deaths of Winters' team…was not an accident."_

"What?"

" _Winters' and the rest of the team was given the Valium. He was…Tony...they were murdered."_

Tony paused just before stepping out of the elevator. "Serial killer? Bad guy out for revenge?"

McGee took a deep breath. " _We don't know yet. Gibbs…he just…he wants you to watch your six, DiNozzo."_

"Yeah," Tony whispered as he stepped into the hotel room and his eyes fell on Leah curled up in a chair reading. "Yeah, you don't have to tell me twice." He hung the phone up and closed the door, putting the cell back into his pocket. Leah turned and smiled at him brightly when she heard the sound of the door shutting. "Hi," Tony greeted with a smile. "Brought us some brunch."

"Great! I'm starving!" Leah replied, grinning. She marked her page and closed her book, setting it down on the table. "Did you get everything sorted out with the bank?"

Tony put the food down onto the table and glanced at her with a puzzled expression. "The bank?"

Leah nodded her head. "Yeah. That's why you said you had to go out."

"Oh. Yeah…yeah I got everything sorted out," he lied, holding out the flowers to her. "I got you these to make up for my absence."

"You didn't have to bring me flowers…but it's sweet."

"Well…you've been wonderful this weekend…through everything."

Leah kissed him and grabbed the flowers. She found a vase and situated them into it and placed it on the center of the table. She could see the troubled expression in his eyes but it was different this time—this wasn't related to his father. "Is everything alright? Who were you on the phone with when you came in?"

Tony opened his take out container and looked down at his breakfast. _You've lied enough to her today, time to stop._ "McGee," he said. "It turns out those four agents were murdered. Each of them was given the Valium because the killer didn't know who would be driving. McGee…wants me…us to be careful."

"If that's the case then you probably shouldn't go running off to the _bank._ "

"Leah…"

"Listen. I know that you didn't really go to the bank but it's none of my business where you went. Just…be careful please."

He sighed and pushed his breakfast aside. "I went…I went to give something back to…a friend."

She paused her eating and quirked an eyebrow, "I thought you hadn't been to New York in years?"

"When she left…Ziva gave me…she gave me a necklace…she never took it off—ever. I kept it…I kept it in my desk," Tony answered, searching her eyes. "But now that…I've found what I've been looking for my whole life…love and happiness…a future with you—it was time to give it back. So she can do the same."

"Ziva is here in New York?"

"No. An old family friend is. I left it with him."

Leah looked away. She was glad that he was being so open with her but a small fear ran through her heart. What if Ziva got that necklace and came back? She didn't doubt that Tony loved her, but she'd never been able to shake the thoughts that if Ziva were to come back that he would drop everything to be with her if she offered. "That…that was nice of you."

Tony reached out and grabbed her hand. He latched on and crushed her fingers between his own. "Leah. I love you. Sending her that necklace was my way of telling her that I have found my happiness." He kissed her hand and waited until she looked at him. "Whatever I had with Ziva is gone now. I've changed as I'm sure she has too. If she were to come back…we would have nothing but friendship. Her leaving…it opened my eyes…to what I needed and wanted. I need someone I can depend on, someone I can trust…she knew that she could not always give me that…nature of her upbringing."

"Do you…depend on me?"

"I depend on you a lot."

"For what?"

He smiled and kissed her hand again. "To right the ship, to keep me grounded—the smile at the end of a day—my escape from the job."

She got up and used his hand to guide her to sit in his lap. Tony wrapped her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. Leah played with his fingers, resting her head on his shoulder. "I depend on you too," she confessed, softly.

"For what?" he asked with a sad smile.

"To tell me when I am too hyper-focused, when I need to take a step back…to make me feel safe," she replied.

He tightened his grip on her and kissed her cheek. "Leah," Tony told her, "I will always, always keep you safe."

She smiled at him. "I know."

Tony pulled her down quickly, needing her so fiercely that it physically ached, his mouth claiming hers in a passionate kiss and his hands roaming over her body. His need for her only heightened when she pushed him back and got up, taking his hand and leading him towards the bed. He loved it when she took control, when that shy, sweet professor turned into a sexy, desire driven woman. "I thought you were starving?" he inquired, with an innocent smile.

Leah slowly pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside and letting her fingers trace paths through his course chest hair. "I'm hungry for something else besides eggs Benedict."

"Something…Italian…maybe?" Tony teased, his heart beating wildly.

"Perhaps. Italian does  _taste_ good," Leah teased right back, letting her fingers explore the hard lines of his chest.

His breath hitched at her feathery touch and it still amazed him how her light embraces aroused him as much as rough, hard, and close to abrasive touches did. Leah showed him that passion was more than a torrid love affair. She showed him that one could be passionate and gentle and loving and that it was just as satisfying—if not more—than his wild romps or one night stands. As this thought crossed his mind, he felt her hand lightly run up the inside of his thigh and he moaned, lowly, when her fingers brushed the evidence of his need for her. "Leah…do you know what you do to me?"

"I have a pretty good idea," she purred as one hand unbuttoned his jeans, the other cupped the bulge between his legs.

He kicked his pants off, quickly, and soon he was in nothing but his boxers while she remained fully clothed. He grinned at her, "Breakfast is getting cold."

She returned his grin with a sly smile. "Breakfast can be reheated in the microwave," she stated, grasping his wrists in her hands. She pulled him down onto the bed with her, his body sliding over hers. She rolled him over onto his back and straddled him, locking her mouth onto his before leaving a trail of kisses down to his belly button.

Tony squirmed impatiently underneath her, fire spreading through his veins and he groaned as her lips kissed his erection through his boxers. She pulled back at the sound, let go of his wrists and pulled her shirt off, revealing her lacy bra leaving nothing to the imagination. He closed his eyes, licking his lips. He felt the bed shift and opened them, watching as she stood up and slipped off her jeans, letting them glide to the floor slowly and gracefully. She had nothing on but a pair of lacy, see through, matching bra and panties.

"Do you like what you see, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Don't be such a tease—you know I do. It's pretty obvious."

Leah smiled coyly and climbed back onto the bed, climbing on top of him once more. Tony rose slightly to meet her, to capture her lips between his own and ignite the smoldering fire between them. His fingers fumbled about and found the clasp on her bra, deftly he removed it from her body, never once breaking contact with her lips.

Her bra ended up somewhere on the floor as Leah’s hands roamed lower to find the elastic band of his boxers.  She hooked them and pulled them down over his buttocks, down his long, strong legs, and to his feet, where he easily kicked them aside.

His breath hitched when she started to stroke him.  “Oh, God, Leah… that feels…shit that feels so damn good.”

She smiled, seductively at him. “You seemed a little tense, darling. I thought this might make you feel better.”

“I’m still…I’m still tense, sweetheart,” Tony gasped.

“Oh… well…what can I do to help _that_?” Leah questioned, innocently.

Tony laughed, huskily. “Take those panties off.”

Leah stopped stroking him and slid backwards until she was off the bed, standing at the foot.  She hooked a finger into the band of her lacy panties and slowly, painfully slowly for Tony, pulled them off.  She tossed them aside. “Now what?”

He groaned. Tony loved when she teased him; today she was really dragging it out and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for her.  “Come here.”

She sauntered back to the bed, crawling on top of him.  She positioned herself right above his erection. “Do you want me, Tony?”

“What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

“Anthony. Do you want me?”

“Yes, Leah, yes… I want you.”

Leah lowered herself around him, sighing. 

Tony tossed his head back and moaned, softly as she began to rock her hips back and forth.

Their connection was so powerful, spiritual while lovemaking. It was more than physical. It was more than primal. It was an intimate bond that linked them together in every essence of the word. He'd never been so close to any woman in his life.

Not Wendy or Jeanne. Not EJ or Ziva. Those women had given him the physical release that he craved as a man but never more than that. He'd been fooled of course, never aware of that until the first night he'd made love to Leah in her apartment. Leah filled his every sense, drove him to the edge and beyond, leaving him satisfied but always hungry for more.

He wrapped his arms around her slender waist, breathing hard, and pulled her in close. His lips kissed her stomach and breasts, as he thrust upwards to meet her riding him. 

Her head titled back, her lips parted and a breathy moan escaped her as he took her breast into his mouth and began to suck. His tongue danced around her nipple and she began to move faster.  “Don’t stop doing that,” she panted, “please…”

Tony gasped for breath, meeting her frantic pace. “I don’t…I don’t intend too…” he rasped, just before taking the other breast between his lips and tugging.  He relished at her loud groan that echoed in the room.

Leah gripped his shoulders, her nails lightly digging into his flesh and she began to ride him even harder, the heat building up inside of her to the point where she felt like she was going to explode with passion.  She had told him on several occasions—because he asked frequently—he was the best sex she’d ever had.  He knew how to please her and then some…

“Damn it, Leah,” Tony panted, burying his sweat covered face between her breasts, “come… come for me…”

“Only if…only if you come with me,” Leah gasped, followed by a low, guttural moan. “Please, Tony…”

Her words were enough to send him over the edge, which triggered her own powerful release. They came together, shouting each other’s names up to the ceiling, not really caring if the people in those rooms heard them, and then they came crashing down, breathing hard like they had just ran the 100 meter dash in sweltering heat.

Leah's body slid off of his, snuggling against his chest, both their breathing heavy, hearts hammer against their ribcages.

Tony ran his thumb along her cheekbone. "So," he gasped, trying to catch his breath, "does your fiancée know you're this feisty in bed?"

"Yes! I think he does!" she said with a giggle, playfully hitting him on the arm.

“Oh, good,” he replied, kissing her, “then he won’t mind if we do that again?”

Leah let her hand travel lower and brush across his hip bone.  “No, I don’t think he’d mind… in fact… I think he’d want us to do it again…and again…”

Tony grinned at her wickedly and wrapped her into his arms, kissing her fiercely between her giggles. They became completely tangled in the sheets as he tickled her playfully, leaving their breakfast to get cold—besides, they had more enjoyable ways to spend the morning and eating breakfast was not at the top of the list.

 


	13. October, 1986

**October 1986**

It was entirely possible that the whole world had gone mad. At least it seemed that way to five-year-old Leah. Everyone was running around that hotel suite like crazy, panicking over things like hair and make-up and if the limo was going to show up on time.

Leah sat on the edge of the bed and watched as her mother fretted over her aunt's hair. It was raining outside and even though, Katherine kept saying, rain was good luck on one's wedding day, you still needed to look your best.

As she sat, ramrod straight on the bed, not wanting to ruin her own hair, Leah didn't quite understand the significance to getting married. Lauren dressed her two sisters up all the time to pretend that she was getting married and she talked non-stop about what she wanted for her wedding, despite the fact that she was only twelve. But Lauren never explained what it meant to be married. Why did anyone get married in the first place? And why was it such a mass production where even the children had to be apart of it?

Her sisters knew their roles to be played in the wedding. Lauren and Norah were junior bridesmaids and they were buzzing around the room in anticipation. Even with Katherine scolding them.

"Okay," one of the bridesmaids announced. "We have fifteen minutes until the limo gets here!"

Throughout the entire room there was a chorus of happy squeals and claps. Leah just sat there, blue eyes wide. Katherine made some finishing touches to her hair and gave her a basket of rose petals. "Remember," her mother said, looking at her sternly, "When you walk down the aisle you spread the petals out in front of you, got it?"

Leah scrunched her face up into a confused look. "Mommy. Why is everyone so...weird today?"

Katherine looked at her, with a bewildered look. "What do you mean by that?"

"Everyone is running around yelling and jumping and screaming. And I can't mess up my hair because we don't want it to look messy for the photographer. And...why do we all have to get dressed up for this anyways? It's just a wedding."

"Leah, it's not just a wedding! This is the biggest day of Auntie Carrie's life! She's getting married to a man she loves very, very much. They're about to start their life together and everyone is very excited for her. This is a happy occasion and they aren't acting weird, they're acting just like anyone else would at a wedding."

Katherine reached out and pat her on the cheek, giving her the same instructions on what her job was in the wedding that she had heard about a dozen times since the rehearsal last night.

Leah nodded, gently. She didn't want to make her mother angry because a curl was out of place. And as soon as Katherine gave the youngest of the Dawson clan her instructions, she was off joining in the festivities. The bridesmaids were passing out things they called "something borrowed, something blue, and something new."

"And something for you," her grandmother's sweet voice said, "Being flower girl is very important."

"Norah said it was easy, Grammy," Leah said with a shrug.

Grammy chuckled as she put the gold locket around her granddaughter's neck. "Someday you are going to find a love, Leah, so wonderful and powerful, that you'll carry it around in this locket to keep it with you every day."

Leah popped the heart open. "There's nothing in it, Grammy."

"That's because you haven't met him yet, baby," Grammy said, kissing her cheek. "Just remember—take your time. You are special and the man that eventually earns that spot in your locket has to treat you as such."

"Grammy, what do you think he'll look like?" Leah asked.

Her grandmother reached out and put her arm around her, "I suspect that he will be handsome."

Leah thought about this for a moment. "Like Prince Phillip in Sleeping Beauty?"

"You and your movies," her grandmother said with a chuckle. "Yes, just like Prince Phillip."

"I wonder if he will have a white horse like Sampson and a castle," Leah said. "I'd like to live in a castle."

Grammy grinned. "Wouldn't we all."

She looked at the locket in her hand once again, at how empty it looked. She wasn't sure what to put in there to make it look less empty, because Grammy after all had said it was for the man she would marry. She was five. She hadn't met her Prince Phillip yet. So, what was a little girl to do? She found a piece of paper and some crayons and drew her Prince. It was a place holder for the day that a real photograph adorned the locket.


	14. Placeholder

Leah at some point became aware that she was in bed alone. Blinking open her eyes she peered into the golden haze of afternoon in their hotel room and found that Tony was missing. Reaching for her clothes, she quickly got dressed and went to glance out on the balcony.

It was a little after two and the sun was high in the sky, but she could make out Tony's tall silhouette standing against the rail, watching the rhythmic comings and goings of the city below them.

"Tony? Why are you up?" she asked, closing the door behind her. She walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek into his back. "I thought you wanted to stay in bed all day."

"You were still sleeping. And I was hungry for my eggs," Tony confessed, with a smile. He grabbed her arms and unhooked them, turning about to face her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Leah saw a distant look in his eyes. She knew that it must have been hard for him to give Ziva's necklace back earlier that day and that he constantly wondered if his former partner had found peace, sometimes to the point where it nearly dragged him down into a depression. Her Tony, too empathetic for his own good sometimes. "What's going on?" she asked, going to take his hand. As their fingers locked she was shocked to find something cold and metal in his grasp. She unlatched his fingers to find her locket, opened, in his hand. "Why do you have my locket?"

Tony glanced down at the jewelry in his hold. "Just curious to see what picture you kept inside," Tony answered, softly. "I was…I was surprised to find a drawing."

She looked at the tiny picture she had drawn as a child. "I drew it. When I was five. Prince Phillip from _Sleeping Beauty._ It was my favorite movie growing up. He's my placeholder."

He studied her for a moment, his green eyes settling on her blue ones. "Placeholder for what?"

"For the man who will keep my heart."

Tony turned away silently and looked out across the city once again. Leah was confused. Was he upset because he found a drawing of a fictional character in her locket and not a picture of him? She moved closer to him and silently begged him to tell her what the problem was. It was as if he could sense her presence. "My mom had a locket like yours. She kept a picture of me and my dad in there."

She nodded, slowly. "Are you upset that I haven't put a photograph of you in there?"

"No. That's silly."

"Because I plan too. Once we get our wedding photos back."

Tony spun around and stared at her, intensely. "Leah. I'm not mad at you. It's kind of cute. A child's drawing to hold the place for the real deal and the fact that you kept it in your locket this long means that you still, after all these years, believe in love and happy endings."

Leah smiled, gently. "Every little girl wants a happy ending."

He closed the locket and stepped closer to her. Gently, he placed the necklace around her neck and clasped it shut. Tony wrapped her tightly in his arms, protecting her from the cool wind, and took comfort in the fact that Leah was his happy ending.

* * *

Gibbs wouldn't say it out loud—but he was relieved to see Tony step off the elevator Monday morning.

"Hey, boss," the senior field agent greeted with an easy smile. He dropped his backpack down near his desk and started to go through his messages.

"Enjoy the rest of your weekend?" Gibbs asked, cautiously.

Tony smiled and nodded. "Yeah. New York City…always something magical about it."

Gibbs could easily see the change in Tony since last week. His shoulders were not as tense, his eyes were a bit brighter, and even though his father had nearly destroyed his weekend, the SFA seemed content. Gibbs suspected Leah had something to do with it. "You take my advice, DiNozzo? You talk to Leah about…whatever was bothering you?"

"Yeah," Tony said, softly. "You…you were right, boss…I do have a pretty great girl…wish it didn't take my father being an ass for me to realize it."

"Nah, you just needed a little push."

"Well…Senior's always _pushed_ me."

Gibbs chuckled as Abby burst into the bullpen, arms spread wide, squealing, "Toneee!" She leapt at the SFA and latched on tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried when you and Leah didn't answer your phones!"

Tony hugged her and then pulled away, smiling, slyly. "Sorry about that, Abs. We…didn't want to be interrupted."

"I guess I can forgive you this _one_ time," Abby tossed out, grinning. She hugged him tightly again, just glad to have him back. "You're okay? Tim told me what happened with your dad…before you get upset he had to call him to find you!" Abby pulled away and held him at arm's length. "It was wrong of him, Tony! To go to that lawyer and get a prenuptial agreement drafted! You don't need it! Anyone can see that you and Leah belong together!"

"Yeah, well, Leah and I might have to put off getting married for a while," Tony lamented with a sigh. "I kind of messed that up when I stormed out of our venue."

Abby punched him, not too hard, but enough that he yelped. "Anthony DiNozzo, Junior! Do you not know _who_ I am? I am the party, wedding, planning expert and _I_ am going to make sure that your wedding happens, on time!"

Tony rubbed his sore arm, noticing Gibbs chuckling silently. "Abs…I've kind of burned my bridges with my dad."

"We'll think of something, Tony! Promise! I'm going to go call Leah right now! If the two of us put our heads together…we can make this wedding happen!" Abby stated, firmly, as she turned on her heel. She then quickly turned back to Gibbs, "That is…if you don't need me right now, Gibbs."

"No. Nothing new on this case," Gibbs said with a smile, "Go on. Make sure we all have a wedding to go to in a few weeks."

Abby grinned and rushed off. Tony watched her go before asking, "Where do _we_ stand on this case?"

Gibbs sighed and glanced at his SFA. "Four dead NCIS agents and one dead JAG lieutenant. All killed in car accidents after being given high doses of Valium."

Tony pursed his lips together. If it had only been Winters' that had the drug in his system…well…he might believe that the accidents were coincidental. But…the entire team had been drugged. Meaning…someone wanted them dead. "And you're certain the lawyer wasn't working with Winters' team? Maybe a case on the side?"

"Actually," Bishop's voice said as she entered the bullpen. "A case file was found in the car. We thought it was the one the Lieutenant was working but turns out, it's not."

"NCIS case?" Tony inquired.

"No. FBI. Missing persons report."

Gibbs scratched his chin. "Missing persons report?" he repeated, just making sure he heard right. Why would a JAG lawyer be looking into a missing persons case? "Are you sure?"

Bishop nodded. "Yes. I brought the file back over to the FBI myself last night. Agent Fornell was surprised that the lawyer had this case. It's over three decades old. Balboa kept a copy for our case file…but we didn't see any connection."

"Can you bring the case up on the plasma?"

"Yes."

Tony could see Gibbs gears turning. His were as well but at this point he wanted to look at the case before he came to any conclusions. Of course, that wasn't going to happen when Bishop brought the photograph of the missing woman on the screen. "Boss…" he said, startled, "that's…that's Agent Winters' wife. At least…well…at least when she was about twenty years old."

Gibbs stood and went to stand next to the senior field agent. "You said she seemed upset when you and McGee went to see her last week. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary?"

"I…I was pretty messed up in the head, boss," Tony confessed, sheepishly, "I might have…I might have missed something. But…she played the grieving widow well."

"Bishop…when was this young woman last seen and where?"

"Last seen on May 21, 1977…at a local coffee shop. Witnesses say she left alone."

"Runaway?" Tony guessed.

Gibbs could only begin to speculate what this all meant. "Take Bishop. Go pay another visit to Mrs. Winters' again."

Tony grabbed his badge and gun. "Sure thing, boss." He led the way to the elevator, feeling all the tension returning to his body. _So much for those two days in New York City with Leah,_ he thought, sadly as he climbed inside the cab.

"So," Bishop said, breaking the silence as they rode the elevator down to the garage, "Have a nice weekend?"

* * *

Carla Winters was surprised to see Tony back at her house. "Agent DiNozzo? I thought that my husband's case was closed?"

Tony frowned. "There's been a new development in the case, Mrs. Winters. Do you mind if we come in?"

"Of course not," she replied, letting the two agents inside of her house.

Immediately Tony noticed that it was cleaner since he'd been here last, and Mrs. Winters was dressed sharply. She no longer looked like the grieving widow and this sent his warning bells ringing. "Sorry to bother you on a Monday morning like this. But um…well…there was another car accident over the weekend. Driver overdosed on Valium."

Carla looked surprised. "Really? That's…that's strange."

"We thought so too," Tony said, sitting down on the sofa. "Especially when it was a JAG lawyer."

"Did he…work with my husband?"

"Not recently."

Carla shifted, uncomfortably in her chair. "Agent DiNozzo…is there something you're not telling me?"

Tony took a deep breath. "We tested the other three agents in the car with your husband. All of them had Valium in their system."

"My husband was murdered?"

"It looks that way, ma'am. I'm sorry."

Carla shook her head to clear her thoughts. "I just thought Clay had made a mistake…taking that Valium."

Tony ran his tongue over his lips. "Mrs. Winters…can you think of anyone that would want to hurt your husband?"

"Agent DiNozzo…my husband was a federal agent for a long time…why don't you start by looking into his case files."

"Can you explain why this was found in the car with the JAG officer?"

Bishop looked on as Tony showed Carla the missing person's poster from when she had disappeared thirty years ago. The older woman's face showed very little surprise or recognition. But her shoulders certainly stiffened.

Tony placed the poster down onto the coffee table. "Is this you, Mrs. Winters?"

"Oh…I guess it could be have been say thirty something years ago…but, rest assured, Agent DiNozzo, I have never been a missing person."

Something told Tony, as he left with Ellie, that the woman was lying through her teeth. And he wanted to find out why.

 


	15. Connections

Tony had called in a favor from a friend at the FBI and now had Carla Winters—also known as Marisa Hastings—file. Spreading it out on the coffee table, Tony frowned at the photographs of the young woman.

Not a lot was known about Marisa. She had shown up in Philadelphia—no family, very little money—worked at a gas station for minimum wage. She had disappeared eight months after moving there, walking out of a coffee shop and never returning. Her boss had been the one to file the missing person's report. He wondered…

Quickly calling up a search on Carla Winters' he found that there was no information on her prior to entering high school in a small Virginia town. Coincidently she had registered in the school just two weeks after Marisa Hastings had disappeared. Pulling up her yearbook photo he compared them to the missing persons' report. Other than a few minor differences—they were the same person. Now…if only he could piece everything together and solve this case before someone else got hurt.

His cell buzzed on the table. Glancing down he saw that it was a number from New York. His father. Senior had been trying to get in touch with him since he'd stormed out and went to the city. Tony grabbed the phone and hit the ignore button. After all he only had to be unreachable to his boss…and perhaps Leah.

"Your dad?" Leah asked, startling him. He looked up to see her standing before the coffee table.

"Yeah. Old man isn't going to let it go," Tony replied. He leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands. "Once this case is closed…maybe I'll answer and hear him out…but…well…that's a big _maybe._ "

Leah bit down on her lip and looked at the files on the table. "Does this missing person's case from the seventies have something to do with those agents dying?"

Tony shrugged. "Don't know yet. I have a call into a buddy that works in the FBI office in Philly. See if he can help."

"Hey…" she said, sitting down with him. "I saw that girl…on the news."

"Huh?"

" _Good Morning America_ was running it…FBI had a new lead in the case. Her photograph was running everywhere for the next few days."

He straightened his shoulders and turned to face her on the sofa. "This is important, Lee…when did this story air?"

She got a look of deep concentration on her face for a moment while she tried to pull it from memory. "At least a week ago. I think…it might still be on the DVR."

Tony pressed his lips to hers, eagerly. "You're brilliant."

"Either that or I just watch too much television."

"Well _I_ think you're brilliant."

Leah rolled her eyes at him, playfully, while he grabbed the remote and began to go through their recordings. "You know," he said, frowning, "we either need to watch less TV or really start to watch the things we record."

Despite the nearly full DVR he managed to find what he was looking for and pressed play. As he watched it, he felt his heart stop beating for several seconds. This whole thing was much, much bigger than any of them previously believed. Tony stopped the show and reached for his weapon. He had to go see Gibbs. He had to let the boss know that things were going to get out of hand and quickly if they didn't act fast. He lowered his lips to Leah's forehead and gave her chaste kiss.

"Where are you going?" she asked as he particularly flew out of the apartment.

"To see Gibbs," he replied, before slamming the door shut. _We're in trouble._

* * *

Gibbs had just finished his dinner when the front door swung open. He looked up to see Tony, eyes intense, rushing into his dining room. "Something wrong, DiNozzo?"

Tony clenched his fists. "We have a big problem. And I mean a big one, boss. Something wasn't sitting right with the interview today with Carla. So…I did some digging around but that's the problem…there's no past of Carla to dig around in. She just showed up at a high school in Virginia and started dating Clay Winters and they the got married, had some kids, and now her husband ends up dead and a JAG lawyer—with her photograph in the back seat of his car—who by the way…also just showed up in Philly with very little back story before disappearing."

"Abby was going to run a facial match," Gibbs said with a shrug. "We'll know in the morning. You should go home, Tony. Get some rest."

"Facial matches are all well and good, boss," Tony replied, sternly, "but not when you're up against the mob."

"What?"

"Leah said she recognized the photograph of Carla on her missing persons' poster…the news ran a story last week," Tony answered. "FBI thinks that Marisa Hastings…who we know as Carla Winters…was a part of the Russian mob."

Gibbs blinked, trying to absorb what Tony had just said to him. "And if Clay saw the news report…"

Tony licked his lips. "Plenty of motive for Carla wanting him dead…especially if he was having his JAG buddy look into the FBI case."

"Plenty of motive…how do we prove she was the one that overdosed the team and the JAG lawyer with Valium?"

"Haven't gotten that far yet, boss."

Gibbs chuckled and gestured for Tony to sit down. The senior field agent did so, eying Gibbs cautiously. "I know that things didn't go so well with your dad…but I'm rather surprised you've come back…relatively unscathed."

Tony shrugged. "I made amends with a few things in my life while we were in New York City. You know…two years ago I told Chaplain Castro that…it wasn't healthy to pile things on because they…well…they build up. I told her that I carried a lot…everyday… this case… it was my breaking point. I really should have unloaded a lot of weight years ago…Leah…boss I wish she had come into my life sooner. She just…gets me. And it…it was easy unloading all of that stuff onto her…she listened…she offered me advice when I needed it…someone to lean on."

"You talk about your mother?" the team leader questioned.

"Yeah… about how she died… who she was…" the senior field agent responded, softly. "You know…how she died?"

"Looked into it when you weren't responding well to the case."

"Sorry, boss…I should have…I should have told you so you…didn't have to go behind my back like that."

Gibbs sighed, sadly. "I should have just let you come to me before snooping."

Tony smiled, gently. "Was that an apology, boss?"

"Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it."

Gibbs got up and went to the fridge. He returned with two beers and popped them open, handing one to Tony. "I'm glad that you returned feeling renewed. I was getting worried that this was Anton all over again and I was going to have to bench you."

Tony took a sip of his beer and grinned into the bottle mouth. "No worries there, boss. I've got my head in the game for this one…now."

"Noticed you cleaned out your top drawer…whatchya do with the necklace, DiNozzo?"

"Sent it back."

"Ziva was in New York?"

"No…Schmeil. I told him that…it was time to return it to its rightful owner."

Gibbs nodded, solemnly. "Burying the hatchet, DiNozzo?"

Tony chuckled. "Yeah…something like that."

"It was something you needed to do."

"It was something that both Leah _and_ I needed me to do."

Gibbs took a few sips of his beer before putting the bottle down onto the table. He knew that the last year Tony had done his best to break free from the chains that Ziva had unknowingly draped on him. So far…it had been a rocky road…but for the first time since Ziva had left…Gibbs saw that Tony was at peace with that part of his life. It was about damn time too. He was, after all, getting married in three weeks.

Tony finished his beer and stood. "Thanks for the beer, boss. I'm gonna go home and call a friend of mine in Philly."

"Hey, DiNozzo."

"Yeah, boss."

"Watch your six."

Tony smiled. "Always, boss."

* * *

"Marisa Hastings really isn't Marisa Hastings," Tony reported the next morning to the team. "Her real name is Natasha Bukov…her father is the famous Russian mobster Vladimir Bukov who is known in Philly for his human trafficking."

"So…she ran away from home…twice," Bishop surmised. "First across town in the hopes her father wouldn't find her and then…here to Washington?"

Tony nodded his head. "It appears that way. She wasn't wanted in anything…FBI didn't even make the connection until recently that Natasha and Marisa were the _same_ person. It almost looks like she was trying to get away from that life and well…one just doesn't walk away from the mob."

McGee frowned at the plasma screen. "Do you think she killed Agent Winters and his team because she was afraid of being found out?"

"I think Agent Winters and his team were killed to send her a message."

"And the JAG lawyer?"

"Sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. He could have become a liability later…especially if he went to the media that he'd found Natasha."

Bishop clicked her tongue. "Just when you thought it was going to be easy…"

Tony laughed and put the remote down. "All a part of the job, Bishop. Besides…this is all speculation. I don't know how we're going to prove it and I'm sure Carla isn't going to confess anything to us—even if we think she's innocent in all this."

"If only we knew _how_ the Valium got into their systems…" Bishop said with a shake of her head. "It would give us a place to start."

"Ducky said it was most likely ingested in whatever they ate that day," McGee answered. "So…good luck tracing it."

"Is it possible that Carla killed them so the mob wouldn't find her?" Bishop inquired.

"Sure," Tony quipped. "Anything I guess is possible. Still can't prove it."

Gibbs breezed into the bullpen at that moment, coffee in hand. "FBI thinks it's enough to take Mrs. Winters into custody. Just got off the phone with Fornell myself. As for us…put this case in the archives. Until we know _who_ gave the team the drugs…there's nothing else we can do."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but knew that Gibbs was right. They couldn't even figure out _how_ the victims had all ingested the Valium. It was better to hand off the missing person stuff to the FBI and they moved on with their other cases. "Sure thing, boss," the SFA replied, "I'll get in touch with my buddy in Philly and give him Fornell's number." He was just about to pick up the phone and dial when his cell rang. _Dad if that's you again…_ Tony thought angrily as he looked at the screen…only it wasn't his dad…"Leah? Is everything all right?"

" _I…I don't know…Tony I'm really…I'm confused,_ " she said, shaken.

"Where are you?" Tony asked, jumping to his feet and grabbing his gun. "I'll come get you."

" _Lecture hall…no…the library…Tony…"_

Tony snapped his fingers and gestured for McGee to trace her phone, alerting the others that there was a problem. McGee quickly located her…on campus at George Washington University. "Leah…stay right there. We're sending campus security to you. Got it? I'll be there soon." He hung up and dashed for the elevator, aware that Gibbs was coming with him—barking orders at McGee and Bishop as he went. Tony didn't have time to listen. Leah was in trouble. She needed him and he was going to be there for her.

* * *

Gibbs pulled the Charger up to the curb just outside the building that Leah normally taught her classes in. It didn't take the two agents long to find her. Campus security was there, along with an EMT taking her blood pressure. For all intents and purposes it looked like they had avoided a major crisis.

Tony was immediately at her side, pushing her hair back and looking into her eyes. "Leah…sweetheart…what happened?"

"I don't know," she cried, clinging to his arms, "I just…one moment I was at the library putting some material aside for my students and then…here."

"You don't remember walking back here?" Tony asked, seriously.

Leah shook her head. "No."

The EMT took the blood pressure cuff off of her and frowned at her. "Looks like side effects from taking a Valium. Fortunately, you won't have to go to the ER, Ms. Dawson. But…you should probably go home and rest for the day."

Gibbs felt the back of his hairs stand on end. "Valium?" he questioned.

"Yes sir," the paramedic replied, packing up his equipment. "Ms. Dawson is lucky she was coherent enough to call her fiancée and that he got campus security involved. Otherwise…the confusion and disorientation could have led to an accident."

Tony clasped Leah into his arms protectively. "What did you eat today?"

Leah nuzzled his shoulder. "The Danish at the coffee shop…and your coffee…we swapped them by mistake when we left the coffee house."

"You still have that coffee, Leah?"

"Yes…it's…I think it's in my office."

Gibbs nodded towards the Charger. "Get her in the car. I'll get the coffee."

Tony helped Leah to her feet, silently thanked campus security for staying with her, and looked at his boss. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, boss?"

"Yeah," the team leader said. "That Valium was meant for you."

 


End file.
